Alternative
by Nellark
Summary: What if James and Lily had survived? What if Voldemort had died when he killed Harry? "Alternative" shows what life would be like for everyone in Harry's life if James and Lily had never died... FEATURES EVERYONE.
1. The Survivors

**The Survivors**

Nothing would ever be the same.

Lily's suite in St Mungo's was huge, cold and quiet. She didn't mind. It had been five days since she'd had any peace. Her husband had finally agreed to sleep in another room, rather than the itchy improvised comforter beside Lily's hospital bed. Sometimes, James' gallantry was a little theatrical. She wouldn't have him any other way.

She slipped out of bed and shivered: the poor weather outside was permeating the walls of the room. She tiptoed over to the table and chairs by the window where her dressing gown was resting and quickly wrapped it around herself, ignoring the aches and pains in her arms and back. She looked to the window. The sound of pattering rain was pleasant, but there was an ominous undertone to the noises coming from outside. She sighed, and with a finger pulled the blinds back an inch.

Shouting, flashbulbs, quills. A ridiculous crowd of journalists from every newspaper in the wizarding world had congregated outside St Mungo's and were blocking the pavement, getting soaked by the rain and shouted at by frustrated pedestrians and released patients. All this, because they all wanted the first glimpse of the famous Potter Family. They wanted Lily's sob story. They wanted details of James' heroic fight with He Who Must Not Be Named. They wanted a picture of little Harry's scar.

"Merlin's sake!" she grumbled, shutting the blinds. At that moment, something in the room stirred. Lily immediately sought out the small person sitting in the crib at the back of the room, away from the window.

"Harry, Harry, Harry..." she cooed, picking him up. She bounced him on her hip, giggling to herself as her dozy son drifted in and out of consciousness.

"What are we going to do with you, eh?" she asked him as he blinked awake. He looked up at her and smiled lazily. She grinned back. "What a brave boy! What a strong boy!"

The door creaked open. James Potter took one look at his wife and son and his eyes began to water.

"You soppy git..." chuckled Lily, twisting Harry round so that he could see Daddy. "How was it?" she asked James. He frowned.

"I was too scared in the end. Sent a nurse instead," from under his arm, he produced a copy of The Daily Prophet. On the front was a picture of their house, smoke still rising from the gaping hole in their roof. The headline read: _Dark Lord Defeated, Potters Survive. _Seeing his wife's grimace, James draped the newspaper over the crib and walked over to his little family, swallowing them both in an embrace.

"You can't blame them, really," he whispered into her hair. "If it'd been anyone else, I'd want to know."

"I know. Me too," she said, pulling away and passing Harry over to James. "It's just... all the headlines, the photographers, the handshakes and the applause... they're reminders. We're never going to be allowed privacy. And poor Harry!" she looked down at her son, who was once again falling asleep in his father's arms. The unfortunate cut on his forehead had scabbed and would soon start to itch. It was a deep cut, and would mark him out as a miracle for the whole of the wizarding world to see.

"He'll never be normal..." she whispered to herself. James gave her a disapproving look.

"Lily..."

"I mean it in a good way."

She took her son from him and placed him gently back in the cot, where he curled over and gave a little grunt of a snore. Lily smiled warmly down at him.

"Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived."

It was what all the headlines had said the day after her son had rebounded the curse straight back into Voldemort and killed him. Her son was not a murderer though. He was a saviour, a miracle and a hero.


	2. You Looked Happy

The next time it rained so heavily was two months later. Lily had set up a play pen in the small living room for Harry to play in while she cleaned the kitchen. She had the radio on, loud enough to drown out the miserable sound of rain, quiet enough to hear Harry if he cried and quiet enough to hear the tentative knocking at the door.

Lily didn't know who she expected to see at the door. So many people had dropped by over the past two months expressing their gratitude, their admiration, even their idolisation. A group of witches had appeared two Saturdays ago, begging to be able to touch The Boy Who Lived. They'd cried at Lily's feet when she'd opened the door. But now, she was honestly taken by surprise to see this man in particular. She had almost given up on him.

"Hello, Lily."

She stood frozen, taking in Severus Snape's form. He looked worn and tired, absolutely drenched in the ongoing downpour. He gazed up at her with the same adoration that had pained her to look at all her adult life. Without another word, she stepped aside and allowed him to enter.

Water dripped from his robes onto the floor in the narrow hallway. "I'll get you a towel," said Lily, void of emotion as she went to the kitchen and pulled a tea-towel from one of the drawers. He followed in behind her and gratefully took the towel.

"Maybe it's good that those robes got drenched. Maybe it's nature's way of telling you to buy new clothes," Lily jokes darkly. He smiled weakly, looking around the tiny kitchen.

"This is cosy," he deadpanned. Lily raised an eyebrow before turning back to her washing up.

"It's not mine. It belongs to Sirius. He's letting us stay here while we find somewhere else to live. Godric's Hollow's... too well-known now."

"Black is making you do his washing up for him?"

"No, I offered! It's the least I could do."

"Well, when he starts demanding that you make him and his primate friends sandwiches, you'll know to-"

"Why didn't you come?"

Her question silenced them both. She turned off the radio, waiting impatiently for his reply.

"I... don't know what you mean."

"Two months ago, I nearly died. My husband nearly died, my son nearly died and it seems that everyone I have ever met has at least sent me a letter if they haven't gone through hellfire to visit me and-"

"I saw you in the newspapers, I heard you on the radio, I thought you were happy!"

"I always thought that if ever got in trouble, you of all people would-"

"I thought you wanted nothing to do with me."

"THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE NOW?!"

From the other room, Lily heard Harry begin to cry. She swerved round Snape and went through to the lounge to pick up her son. Naturally, he followed her. When she straightened up with Harry in her arms, she noticed Snape staring at the baby.

"You didn't even write when he was born."

"I should go."

"You still haven't answered my question, Severus."

He lingered awkwardly in the doorway, his eyes to the floor. Lily wiped the lollipop tears that were rolling down Harry's cheeks. When she looked back up at her old friend, she was reminded of the Severus she once knew: the one sat glumly on his own on the Slytherin table in the Great Hall at Hogwarts... the one she wanted so desperately to comfort, but approaching that table was like walking through a snake pit.

"Lily... are you happy? With Potter, are you happy?" he asked her with a look of desperation in his eyes. Lily allowed herself a small smile.

"Didn't you read the news yesterday?" she asked in response, watching her son stare at Severus. "We're having another baby."

As her friend registered the news, Lily continued to watch Harry. He gazed at Severus like a new toy. Like a new place. Like a stranger. This hurt her.

"Congratulations," he said, looking anything but pleased for her.

"Thanks," she said feebly. She approached him them. For a split second, Severus Snape was hopeful that not all was lost. Then, she passed him. She made her way to the front door and opened it. He walked solemnly down the hall and out into the deafening rain. Before leaving, he turned back to Lily and Harry. The baby was still watching him with intense curiosity.

"He has your eyes."

Lily smiled. "His are nicer,"

"I don't believe you."

She glanced up at him, tears welling in her own eyes that she blinked back. Severus saw the baby's podgy fingers grasp Lily's shirt even tighter than before. He knew that he'd be leaving Lily in safe hands.

"He's a wizard, you know," she told him. "Sometimes, when he's in his room, he can make his mobile turn without touching it. He even made a chair move so that he didn't hit his head on it when he fell."

"He's clever, like his mother."

"What I'm saying is... he'll be going to Hogwarts. He'll be leaving home and he'll be scared."

It sounded like a sick joke when she said it out loud: _look out for the son of your worst enemy and the girl who rejected you._ But in her head, it was all she could do. She remembered her first few days at Hogwarts spent avoiding sniggers and glares. At least Harry wouldn't have to listen to people calling him that foul word, but he'd still have to endure the arduous amounts of interest in his private life that was sure to come with being The Boy Who Lived.

She watched her old, dear friend walk back down the path and disappear into the misty rain. Her boys would be back soon and she didn't want them to see her crying. She changed her plans for the evening at that moment. She ignored the washing up. She packed the play pen away and took out Harry's toy broomstick. She placed him on it and basked in his squeals of delight as he glided around the room. Lily's pain was forgotten as she allowed herself a little fantasy: Harry, aged eleven, excitedly showing off his new broomstick, surrounded by adoring relatives as he shows his younger sibling how to ride it.


	3. Bathilda's Words

**Bathilda's Words**

"GO ON, HARRY! GET HIM!"

Summer had been long that year. The heat had been stifling and Lily had suffered most of all, being the size that she was. Of course, she didn't mind. Nobody did.

James' son was laughing loudly, tottering round the garden. He was chasing a giant, shaggy black dog that would strike fear through any muggle or naive wizard. To Harry, this animal was his Godfather.

"Woof, woof!" Harry giggled, lunging for the dog's tail. The dog barked a laugh, tickling the toddler by nudging him in the ribs with his nose. Harry shrieked in delight, eventually collapsing into the dog's thick fur, hugging him. The dog obligingly lowered his back. James chuckled to himself, knowing full well what Harry wanted. He walked over to his son and friend and lifted Harry onto the dog's back. Carefully, the dog cantered round the cherry blossom tree in the middle of the lawn. Harry clung safely to the dog's fur, still having the time of his life.

"JAMES!" called a voice. The game stopped and the three boys looked up. Lily was leaning out of an upstairs window, her red hair darkened with water. She was wrapped in a towel.

"Someone's at the door! Answer it, will you?"

"Oh, alright then!" James groaned teasingly. The dog chuckled to himself. James crouched down beside his son for a quick word.

"Who's this then, Harry?" he whispered in his son's ear.

"Padfoot!" said the toddler, eliciting a round of applause from James and from Lily, who was still watching the scene from the bathroom window. It had been only recently that Harry had learnt to pronounce his godfather's name properly.

"Better change back, Padfoot," James warned his friend as he straightened up. The dog playfully nuzzled his godson in his neck before slinking off down the side of the shed, where he'd left his clothes when he transformed. James walked back through the tiny, stuffy house, smiling to himself about the significance of this day. Two years since his world became bigger and scarier... two rocky but bloody brilliant years.

When he opened the door, he was delighted to see another friendly face.

"Where's the birthday boy?" grinned Bathilda, stepping over the threshold. She held a cardboard box in her hands.

"Nice to see you, Bathilda," James smiled, kissing the old lady on the cheek. She still smelt powdery and soft, much like she always did.

"You look well, James. You were very tired last time I saw you!"

"Yeah, well, my son's two years old now. He sleeps all through the night!"

James showed Bathilda through to the garden, where Sirius sat in human form on the grass with Harry, pulling funny faces and making the boy laugh.

"Hello there, dear!" Bathilda said to Sirius, who waved cheerfully.

"How's that beautiful lady of yours, Sirius?" she asked.

Sirius grinned. "Isabelle? She's erm... well, we're engaged."

Bathilda squealed and rushed to hug him. From behind Sirius, Harry looked up at the visitor and flashed a great big smile. Bathilda gasped dramatically.

"You have so many teeth! Those will come in useful later!" she bent down and held the box towards Harry. He waddled over and, with Sirius' help, opened the box. Inside was a messy-looking cake with blue icing and a shakily-drawn broomstick on it.

"Wow, Bathilda!" exclaimed James. The three adults laughed as Harry prodded the cake with his finger and fed himself some icing.

"He must be hungry..." said Sirius suggestively. James rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright, I'll get the plates,"

Lily joined them for the cake. She and Bathilda gushed about her imminent birth while James and Sirius continued goofing around, making Harry laugh by drawing moustaches and lipstick on each other with the icing. It wasn't long before Lily was falling asleep at the table. James carried her to bed, closing the bedroom door on her and re-joining his friends afterwards. By the time he was downstairs again, the air was cooling and the sky had turned dark blue. Bathilda had conjured floating yellow orbs that hovered around the blossom tree, illuminating the garden. James joined her on the recliners while Sirius continued to play with Harry.

"It's such a shame that you couldn't be living in your new house for Harry's birthday, James..."

James stretched. "I think Lily was more disappointed than I was. She's more sentimental about that stuff. We'll be there in time for the birth, that's all that matters. It's closer to St Mungo's, you see,"

When Bathilda didn't reply, he looked to her. She appeared deep in thought.

"How's the new book, Bathilda?" he asked, distracting her.

"Oh, slowly. I'm quite tired nowadays..." she trailed off. " You mentioned St Mungo's. I was there yesterday."

"Oh? What for?"

"Augusta invited me. We were visiting the Longbottoms."

Silence fell between them. Not even Harry was laughing any more. Clearly, Sirius had worn him out.

"How's their little boy?" he asked her finally.

"Neville? Oh, he's very handsome! Such a happy baby. You wouldn't know..." she stopped herself. James knew what she was going to say next. _You wouldn't know that his parents are insane._ Bathilda looked hurt. Hurt by her own thoughts. James picked up his wand from beside his recliner and pointed it towards the house.

"Accio Butterbeers!"

Two bottles of butterbeer drifted out of the back door, clinking together as they flew. James caught them both and passed one to Bathilda. She smiled warmly as she took it. James held his bottle aloft.

"To Frank and Alice Longbottom?"

Bathilda's smile grew into something nostalgic and grateful. They heard Harry cry from his room. It didn't pierce James' heart like it usually did when Harry was in pain or lonely. It was just a reminder that Harry was safe, and that hope was always round the corner.

"To Frank and Alice."


	4. Herbology

Herbology.

Lily had been dreading this day since she first received the invitation: Hogwarts' Annual Equality Gathering. The concept of having an annual celebration in which old and new students of Hogwarts could gather with their family and friends and celebrate the liberty that came with the defeat of Voldemort was something that Lily had initially adored and still did. But, it meant that she would face some unwelcoming faces again. At least she had arms to cling on to.

Lily had suspected that Sirius would be at the forefront of James and Remus' jokes all day, having announced his wife's second pregnancy, this time with twins, earlier that week. Ever since Isabelle had announced their first pregnancy days after their wedding, James and Remus and crudely referred to Sirius as "The Sniper". The jokes had died down when Elsie was born and Sirius was forced to grow up. Now that they were expecting two more, James and Remus were more childish than ever.

At the Hogwarts' Annual Equality Gathering, Lily watched her boys poking fun at Sirius with content amusement. Around her, people were filing in and mingling. Kids ran in packs around the chairs, wives clutched the arms of their husbands and some of the more bitter singletons stood sulking around the edge of the viewing arena, staring glumly into glasses of firewhisky. Lily spotted Agatha Leeroy-Jones, a beastly girl from her year at Hogwarts, scowling at passing couples. Although Lily felt sorry for her, she couldn't help but he relieved that she wasn't her. In the seat next to her, Isabelle groaned.

"I'm never going this again, Lily. Never. Again."

"I can't understand why you were so desperate to come, Belle!"

That was only half true. Lily knew that nobody would have missed this night for the world. It was sure to be a spectacular show. However, Lily knew that although Isabelle was a naturally theatrical person, being eight months pregnant with twins couldn't possibly be a walk in the park. Even if it did mean missing Dumbledore's firework display, Lily would've stayed at home.

"Who's that?" asked Isabelle, pointing to Lily's left.

"That is a tree, Belle. I know you're suffering but there's no way you're hallucinating..."

"No, I mean _look_!"

Lily feared for her own eyesight for a few seconds before noticing a little boy sitting slumped against the base of the tree, his face in his hands.

"Is that your Harry?" asked Isabelle in a low voice. Lily turned and searched the crowds. She quickly spotted Harry talking animatedly with a couple of ginger-haired boys.

"Nope, not Harry. I'll be right back. Do you think you can manage five seconds without me?"

"Less of the sarcasm please, Dear," replied Isabelle to her friend, rubbing her belly. Lily hopped off her seat and made her way over to the boy. As she got closer, she heard him crying.

"Excuse me..." she began in a quiet voice. Apparently, he hadn't heard her. He started to cry louder. Lily bent down beside the boy and put a hand on his shoulder. "Shh... it's alright, sweetheart! Don't cry! Shh..." she rubbed his shoulder until he looked up. He was an unfortunate looking child, with a chubby face and crooked teeth and beady eyes. He couldn't have been older than Harry.

"What's the matter, darling?" she asked him, brushing a tear from his wet cheek. He cleared his throat.

"It's not f-f-fair! All the other children have got p-p-parents and I d-d-don't!" when he was finished speaking, he gave a great wail and threw himself into Lily's arms. She was certainly taken aback, but stroked his back none the less.

"What's your name?" she asked him quietly.

"Neville," he sniffed. Lily blinked a few times as she realised. She'd caught a glimpse of Augusta Longbottom when they'd arrived. The poor boy was five years old.

"You don't mean... _The _Neville Longbottom?!" she sounded astonished. He looked up and nodded, wiping his nose on his sleeve. She gasped and stared at him in awe.

"Mr Longbottom, it is such an honour to meet you! I have heard _so much_ about you!"

Neville stared at her. "You... you have?"

"Of course I have! Everybody knows how brilliant you are at...erm..." she looked around frantically. Mercifully, she saw that he was clutching a clumsily-drawn picture of a flower.

"at... erm... HERBOLOGY!" she blurted. Neville's eyes widened.

"I'm brilliant at... what?" he asked, amazed at his ownership of a talent.

"Herbology! You know an awful lot about plants!" she explained. Neville peered down at his drawing of a flower.

"I mean, look at this wonderful sketch here!" she gestured to his drawing. "What type of flower is this?" she asked. Neville smiled.

"It's a Daisy," he replied fondly.

"Wow. A _Daisy. _And... is it a big flower or a small flower?" she asked.

"Small! Very small!" he squeaked.

"Really?! My goodness, and does it grow in trees?"

"No, no! They grow in grass!" Neville was sitting bolt upright, smiling brightly to her. Lily grinned back at him, pleased that his eyes were no longer watery, but still sparkling. Someone behind them cleared their throat daintily.

"Mrs Potter?" called a dream-like voice. Lily looked up. Janina Lovegood was standing patiently beside the tree, clutching the hand of a raven-haired little girl.

"I found your daughter. She was kidnapped by gnomes, but I bargained with them and managed to have her released from their captivity."

Lily gasped. "Alice! What on earth is that round your mouth?!" Lily pulled at her own sleeve and wiped the purplish muck off of her daughter's face.

"It's blackberry juice," began Janina Lovegood. "Gnomes know a spell that can make them grow on the bushes around their lairs. It's to lure in children."

"Yes, thank you Janina!" Lily said quickly, turning her attention back to Neville while still holding Alice close. It was such a strange situation to find herself in. Here was her daughter, face to face with the boy whose mother she was named after. It was so sad, not being able to tell Neville about his parents. She grabbed his hand.

"Come along, Neville. You can sit with us when the fireworks start."

Lily walked back to the viewing arena with the two children in tow, receiving an questioning look from Isabelle.

"Look who it is, Mrs Black! It's Neville Longbottom! You know, _The Herbology Genius_!" Lily widened her eyes as she emphasised her white lie. Isabelle's confusion was almost obvious, but she played along anyway.

"My goodness! It's wonderful to meet you, Sir! Oh, please come and sit by me, so that you can tell me what you think about the fireworks!"

True enough, after Dumbledore's speech, the fireworks were astounding. However, there was no sight more beautiful than the one that followed when the fireworks were over: Harry and Alice Potter, Elsie Black and Neville Longbottom running around together, blissfully unaware of the horror and evil that had occurred years before, allowing them to be as free and happy as they were. Lily made a mental note to speak to Augusta and the end of the evening and arrange a day for Neville to come over and play.


	5. Pride

**Disclaimer: All rights go to JK Rowling**

Alice Potter had been busy playing with Mabel, the family cat, when she heard the familiar hoot of an owl from up the chimney. The morning was golden and cool, quiet and cosy. Her mother was somewhere in the kitchen, singing along to the radio. Her father was at work and wouldn't be home for a long time. The lean tabby cat pawed at the long twist of black hair that Alice dangled in front of the cat's face. When the cat heard the owl, she flipped over and glared wide-eyed at the fireplace. Alice, whose curiosity levels were alarming (even for a girl of nine years old), automatically shuffled over to the blackened embers and waited for what she imagined would be a fat feathered creature landing with a thud, spraying ash and soot all over the lounge. Instead, a small envelope soared silently out from the shaft and landed with a delicate flutter onto the carpet. Alice read the address.

"Was that an owl I heard?" called Lily, wondering in to the lounge. As soon as she saw her daughter sitting on her knees, reading a small, unmistakable envelope, her eyes began to water.

"It's for Harry," explained Alice, standing up. "Can I give it to him?" she asked. Lily could only nod. Alice bounded from the room and jumped two steps at a time to the top floor. Without knocking, she burst in to Harry's room.

Harry's room was big and airy and was entirely a reflection of him. Scrunched up paper, empty chocolate frog boxes and apple cores were overflowing from his bin. Clothes were strewn over his desk chair and were spilling out from his drawers. Toy soldiers had been abandoned in the middle of a siege: Harry's army versus Neville's. His broomstick was propped up proudly against the wall in the corner and his childhood teddy bear was squashed uncomfortable underneath his sleeping form.

"Wake up, dozy!" Alice called, rushing over to his bed and jumping on him.

"Whuzzgoinon... whoozat... Alice?"

"It's me, silly! Open your letter!"

"My what?"

Alice grabbed her brother's glasses from his nightstand and handed them to him. Once they were on his face, his eyes landed on the letter in Alice's hand. His eyes widened in horror.

"It's a letter, Harry, not a dragon. Go on, open it!" she thrust the letter into her brother's face. He took it and read the address. _Harry Potter, Number 12 Jenks Lane, Sunwood, West Sussex."_

He clawed through the wax seal and gauged the letter out. He knew what this was and he knew it had been in the post for many years. He still couldn't shake the feelings of nervousness as he read it aloud to his sister.

"Dear Mr Potter, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry..."

Suddenly, all the stories that his father had told Harry as a child came flooding to the forefront of his mind: stories of talking hats and bubbling potions and enchanted ceilings and spell classes and magical beasts and colossal mountains and wonderful teachers and life-long friendships... all the things that made his parents the loving, happy people that they were. Harry looked up from his letter and saw his mother standing in the doorway, tears pouring down her cheeks, beaming at him.

"I've send an owl to your father, telling him the news," she told him through a thick voice. "He'll be home early tonight, so we can celebrate."

Unable to contain herself any longer, she bounded over to her son and threw her arms around him.

"We're so proud of you," she whispered into his hair. Harry was too happy to contradict her, reminding her how long they'd known this letter was going to arrive. They knew that one would arrive for Alice, too, in two years. He could not reject his mother's warmest wishes, not when she was this delighted. Alice tentatively approached them. Lily must've heard her move, because she leaned out and opened her arms to engulf both her children at once.


	6. Diagon Alley

**Disclaimer: Characters, settings, basically everything is JK's.**

Diagon Alley was just as packed as it always was. Perhaps more so this year, as James Potter and his company seemed to make up for half of the customers in every shop. The adults had let the children take the lead in this expedition to buy the first term's equipment for Hogwarts. Elsie Black headed the journey, darting from shop to shop with Alice Potter in tow. Both girls stayed hand in hand, crashing into bustling witches and wizards, gazing up at the marvellous displays of bursting colour, delicious smells and glorious magic. This would be them in two years: claiming their powers and the equipment to use them. For now, they were here to help Harry. Harry was walking at a slow pace with Neville Longbottom, both of them panicking at the prices and obscure names of books and cauldron types. They were still not as slow as the adults. Lily Potter and Isabelle Black kept watchful eyes on their fast-moving daughters while Isabelle's young twins Henry and Aida clutched their mother's skirt in a rare shared moment of social anxiety.

"What's the matter, darlings?" Isabelle asked her children. "Tired?"

They both shook their heads in unison, their hazel-coloured curls splashing around their faces, reminding the two women of their father. He, James and Remus were strolling along at the very back of the procession, watching the scenes unfold.

"I should probably help the boys," yawned Sirius, rolling his sleeves up. "Those cauldrons are pricey this year!" he sauntered off in search of Harry and Neville, leaving James and Remus chuckling together. It had been a private joke between them that since Sirius' whopping inheritance had come in, he'd been smugly parading his finances for the world to see. It was funny, but they couldn't blame them. He'd spent months in his teenage years sleeping on the Potter family's sofa, facing homelessness otherwise.

"You and him are very lucky," mused Remus, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Look at you: disgustingly proud. It makes me jealous."

James laughed loudly. "What are you talking about, Moony? Your time will come!" he promised, throwing an arm around his old friend's neck.

"Don't count on it..." Remus mumbled back, but his voice was drowned out by a sudden outburst of girlish screams. The men's ears pricked up. They saw Lily and Isabelle frantically pushing through the crowds to the source of the screaming and made a mad dash to follow them.

They elbowed through the nosy congregation until they came across a sorry sight: Neville looking a little awkward as Harry is backed up against the window of Flourish & Blotts, cringing away from the young girls who were begging him to sign their new text books. The poor boy looked horrified. James might've laughed had his instinctual gallant side struck.

"Out of the way, girls!" he ordered, attempting to sound as polite and possible. He heard disgruntled fathers grunt and grumble as he gently pushed the girls aside, holding his hand out to Harry. His son looked ready to worship his father and he dived through the girls towards him. Neville followed nervously, smiling awkwardly at the dazed girls.

James pulled the boys away from the crowds and into a side passage between two shops. They were concealed by shadows.

"You both alright?" asked James. They both nodded rapidly. "Good."

"Dad..." Harry began as Neville plodded out to the dispersing mob.

"Yes, son?"

"One girl was asking me to be a Slytherin. I didn't think it worked like that. I thought I was going to be in Gryffindor!" James saw panic rise in his son's face and quickly bend down so that he was face to face with him.

"Is that the house you want to be in?" he asked.

"Gryffindor? Well, yeah! You and Mum were in it, Uncle Remus was in it, Sirius was in it... why would I belong anywhere else?"

James smiled warmly at him. "Harry, I don't think you'll have to worry about a thing."

"But what if-" he began again, but James pulled Harry into an embrace.

"Harry, you know we'll still love you, no matter which house you're in, who you're friends with or which grades you get. Just... don't worry so much. You'll explode."

The men parted and went back through to the main shops. They rejoined their group in Flourish & Blotts where the previous drama was still being shaken off. They still had books to buy, wands to find and animals to choose.


	7. Abilities, Talent and Intellect

Abilities, Talent and Intellect.

Harry Potter was a little disheartened that his father wasn't choking back tears, or that his mother wasn't blubbing into a handkerchief, or that his sister wasn't wrapped round his ankles. This was it: The Hogwarts Express was firing up, preparing to go. The younger people scattered around Platform 9 ¾ were hopping up onto the train, leaning out of windows and hauling trunks over each other's heads. Harry had not spotted anybody taller than him.

"Mum, I'm going to be late!" hissed Harry, demanding her attention.

"Don't be silly, Harry, it's nowhere near eleven yet!" she replied. She returned her attention back to the conversation she was having with a muggle woman who looked extremely nervous. Her daughter, a muggle-born witch, was already in her Hogwarts robes and was clutching a very worn copy of a book Harry had purchased a matter of days ago.

"Are you a first year?" she asked Harry. She was very posh.

"Er, yes. You?"

"Yes. I'm ever so excited. Aren't you excited? I had no idea I was a witch until a professor came and told me. How odd! Oh gosh, are you nervous about the sorting?"

Having realised the girl had stopped talking, Harry blinked back into focus, thinking back to what she'd just asked.

"A little," he replied. She nodded knowledgeably.

"Me too" she agreed. "Of course, houses are nowhere near as important as they used to be! Although I'd rather like to avoid Slytherin... there's a bad stigma around that house."

The mention of a possibility of being landed in Slytherin made Harry nervous once again.

"My goodness... I've just realised who you are."

He looked at the girl, whose brown eyes were wide with awe. He was shocked himself: the drama of his visit to Diagon Alley had worn the novelty of his presence at Hogwarts this year had seemed to have worn off, had it not been for this girl.

"What's your name?" he asked her, hopefully distracting her from himself.

"Hermione Jean Granger," she said proudly, extending her hand. He shook it immediately, glad that this was at least one person he could sit with on the train. Where was Neville?

The whistle blew at the other end of the platform. Tension rose immediately as kids crammed themselves through the narrow doors of the train. Instantly, Lily was in front of her son, smiling at him.

"Be a good boy," she told him. "and have fun,"

Harry flung his arms around her, drinking in her scent, savouring it. There was nowhere safer in the world than his mother's arms, and he'd be without them for many weeks. When he reluctantly let go of her, Alice was next to claim him.

"I'll miss you," she told him honestly, squeezing him tightly.

"I'll miss you, too," he replied, gently pushing her back towards his mother. He hugged his father tightly before James hauled his trunk onto the train.

"Harry!" hissed a girl, grabbing his sleeve. It was Hermione, looking scared. "Does it... does being muggle-born matter?" she asked him, for the first time looking absolutely terrified. "Does it make a difference to your magic?"

Harry knew about where his scar came from. He knew about Lord Voldemort and Death Eaters and the nasty types of people that existed in Slytherin. He knew what some people would say and think, and he knew that some people would act upon in.

"Of course not," said a voice that was not his own. The children looked up at Lily Potter, who was looking at Hermione very seriously. "Your blood status makes no difference to your abilities or your talent or your intelligence. You may be muggle-born, but you could still be the brightest witch of your age."

The final whistle blew. Harry and Hermione leapt onto the train and hurried to find a carriage to themselves. They flung themselves onto the seats and pressed their noses up against the window.

"Write to us!" Harry heard his mother shout. He nodded in response. As the train chugged into movement, Harry waves frantically to his mother. He heard Hermione sniff. He looked at her, startled by the tears in her eyes. He too was sad to part from his family.

"Your Mum's lovely," she told him, leaning back and sighing. Harry took one last look at the platform. He watched his father, sister and lovely mother grow smaller and smaller in the distance. They kept on waving until he could no longer see them.


	8. Defence

**Disclaimer: It's all Rowling's.**

Harry had leapt out of bed that morning, overly eager to start learning some proper, usable spells. His first day had been magical in itself: being herded through the magnificent ancient castle, watching the ghost swoop through the rafters and around the stone columns, being greeted by moving paintings, the sorting... when Harry had heard that delicious word, _Gryffindor_, he could've cheered with happiness. He was with Hermione and Neville and lived among the ghosts of his parents' mischief. Later, he would write to them. He'd tell them that he was in Gryffindor and they would be fiercely proud of him.

But just one hour into the second day, Harry was in a bad mood.

His first lesson had been charms class. He'd spent an hour trying to levitate a feather and failed. Even Hermione, who'd had no contact with magic before, was able to get her feather floating ten feet above them. And if that wasn't enough, Seamus Finnigan had made his feather explode, causing sparks to singe Harry's new school tie. His tie now looked like a sieve.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was something Harry had been looking forward to, having known that his mother had been a high achiever in this subject when she was at Hogwarts. However, Harry had learnt the perfectly simple spell, _Wingardium Leviosa_, an hour ago. He still hadn't made anything fly. Perhaps he was a squib after all.

"Don't be ridiculous Harry, of course you're not a squib," said Hermione when Harry voiced his concerns to her while they waited for their teacher to arrive. "Spells need practice. Magic has to be worn in. Lots of people didn't manage it!"

"How did you do it then?" he asked.

"I... well, I... just concentrated really hard, and-"

"But _I _concentrated! I did!"

"SILENCE," a deep, cold voice reverberated around the stone walls of the classroom. A lank, sallow-looking man came striding into the room. His billowing black robes were buttoned up to his throat. The wand in his hand was glossy and black.

"My name is Professor Snape, I will be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for the foreseeable future," he spun round and picked up a piece of chalk.

"This class," he began as he scribbled his name in jagged script on the board. "will teach you how to defend yourselves against the dark forces of this world..."

"No... really?" whispered Seamus Finnigan. Many students, including Harry, giggled.

"I SAID BE QUIET," boomed Snape, spinning round. His eyes fixed on Seamus, who was still red from fighting back laughter. Snape swooped down the aisle, ready to shout at him when the classroom door burst open.

"Sorry I'm late!" called a voice. In ran a panting boy with ginger hair and very worn clothes. Harry cringed into his seat at Snape turned to face him.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Ron Weasley, Sir. I'm really sorry I'm late, I got lost!"

"Sit down."

Ron looked round at the busy classroom, unsure of where to go or who it was safe to sit with. Harry scooted closer to Hermione, allowing a little space for the boy to sit down. Ron didn't see him.

"Sit down, boy, or you'll receive a month's detention for silly idleness,"

Harry coughed loudly and Ron whirled round, seeing the space on the bench and gratefully sliding into it.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"Quiet..!" warned Snape, walking back over to the blackboard.

The students continued listening to their teacher in solemn silence, not moving, not even breathing too loudly. The tense introduction of Ron to Snape was slowly dissolving from the forefront of everybody's minds and before long, Snape had them practicing the wand-lighting charm.

"Very good, Mr Malfoy," Harry heard Snape say. He, Ron and Hermione turned to see a blonde, slick-haired boy smugly holding his wand up. The tip was glowing with a blue-ish light. The three of them turned back round, staring glumly at their dull wooden sticks.

"Lumos!" said Hermione impatiently. Then, to their amazement, the tip of her wand illuminated the whole of their section of the classroom, shining much brighter than Malfoy's. Snape did not turn round. Hermione sunk in her seat. On Harry's other side, Ron cleared his throat.

"Lumos," he mumbled. Nothing happened.

"You have to speak _clearly_!" explained Hermione, swishing her bushy hair behind her shoulder. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Lumos!" he barked, flicking his wand. "ARGH!" everyone in the room was blinded by the dazzling light coming from the blackboard. Panic ensued.

"KNOX!" boomed a voice. Harry's vision was restored. Around the room, students were rubbing their eyes and blinking spastically. Standing near them was Snape. He'd grabbed Ron's wand and aimed it at the board which was no longer glowing. He turned and glared at Ron.

"I'm sorry, Sir! I didn't mean to-"

"You were pointing your wand in the direction of the board when I _specifically _told you to _not _focus on any other object other than _your wand._ Ten points from Gryffindor."

The other Gryffindors in the room groaned. Students from other houses sniggered. Harry stared at Snape, outraged.

"That's not fair!" he blurted, finding himself standing up. When Snape's eyes fell on him for the first time, Harry immediately wanted the ground to swallow him whole. It was as though Snape was trying to kill him with his impenetrable glower.

"Mr Potter..." he began, his voice low and gristly. He seemed to choke back a roar. "Sit back down and keep quiet or it'll be another ten points from Gryffindor."

"If it's so easy to _lose _points, it must be just as easy to _earn_ points!" Harry crossed his arms. If he'd been consciously aware of what he was doing, he might've run from the room. "Hermione managed to light up this whole area! Surely that's worth ten points!"

"Sit. Down."

Hermione tugged at Harry's robes, coaxing him to sit down.

"I'll restore the house points to Gryffindor if all three of you can successfully produce a wand-lighting charm _without _blinding half the class."

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other tentatively. Holding their wands in front of them, they prepared themselves for the onslaught of humiliation. Punishment, too, no doubt.

"Lumos!" they said together. Three wand tips glowed perfectly in the gothic darkness of the classroom, illuminating their delighted faces. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Ten points to Gryffindor," he droned before walking away.

When the lesson was over, the trio marched out into the hallway victoriously, waving goodbye to their grateful classmates as they departed to their next lesson.

"That was brilliant, you lot!"called Neville, plodding up behind them. "Really brilliant! Snape looked fit to explode!"

"Did you see _my _charm?" asked Hermione eagerly. "I'd never done that before!"

Beside her, Ron scoffed. "We all lit our wands, Hermione. But _you_ made me say it too loud and now Snape hates all three of us!"

"Hang on a minute," said Hermione, stopping in the middle of the corridor. "_You_ were late! It's not my fault that he hates us!"

"You made me light the board up!"

"You practically screamed at it!"

"Not true!"

Neville shifted his weight uncomfortably. Harry chuckled. "See you later, Neville," he grinned. Neville gave him a quick wave before sprinting down the corridor, away from the bickering which kept going through the entire walk to their first flying lesson.

_What do we think? Who do you want to see more of? It may start to get a bit Harry-heavy at some bits, but there are some golden Lily head-canons coming up, some teenage wizard angst and a new threat to the wizarding world._

_Please review! PLEASE!_


	9. Worries

_Dear Mum, Dad and Alice,_

_ I'm on the Gryffindor quidditch team! It's a long story and I'll explain in more detail at Christmas but we had our first flying lesson and Neville broke his arm and a boy stole something of his and he threw it and I caug-_

"Writing to your Mummy _again_, Potter?" teased Malfoy, snatching the parchment from underneath Harry's hands.

"Give that back!" Harry shouted, lunging for him. Crabbe and Goyle had already enclosed around him like a brick wall, laughing raucously at his letter. Harry didn't think anything was wrong with it...

"Oi, Malfoy!" called Ron, who was rushing across the Great Hall towards them with a flustered Hermione. "Keep your greasy nose out of other people's business, yeah?"

The Slytherin boys' laughter died down. Malfoy sauntered up to Ron, looking him up and down. "Or what? You'll hex me? Go ahead. It might finally prove that you're not a squib!"

"Shut up, Malfoy," growled Hermione from beside Ron. "You're just jealous that Harry made the house team."

"I didn't see _you _doing any fancy tricks on a broom, Granger! You were barely in the air barely in the air before you FELL OFF!"

The gathering crowd started laughing. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, trying to look threatening. She turned to Ron, whose lips were pursed as he fought back laughter himself. Hermione huffed and stormed back out of the great hall.

"I don't see what you're laughing at, Weasley!" jeered Malfoy. "You were pretty useless yourself! Or does all that misdirection always happen with a cheap broom?"

Ron scowled at the blonde boy and snatched Harry's letter from his hands. Malfoy didn't even bother to retaliate as he swaggered back to the Slytherin table, laughing with his friends.

"Slimy git..." grumbled Ron, collapsing down on the bench beside Harry. "Sorry, erm... I ripped a bit."

"It's alright. Thanks..." Harry picked up his quill again and went to dip it in his ink. "You'd better go and see Hermione."

"What for?!"

"You laughed at her."

"... oh yeah."

As Ron set off in search of their bushy-haired friend, Harry returned to his letter and carried on where he left off.

"-_t it and Professor McGonagall saw it and now I'm the Gryffindor seeker! I'll have to get lots of practice in over the next few days. Our first match is soon. _

_ Neville says Hello. I don't see him so much these days: he's usually lost. Ron's good at finding him- I suppose that's what happens after eleven years of hide and seek with five brothers. He and Hermione are still arguing like mad. I feel a bit like a referee in a quidditch match. _

_ I love you all,_

_ Harry. _

_ P.S: You were right Dad. Nothing compares with Hogwarts' food. Not even Mum's cooking. _

"I found her," said Ron, joining Harry in the common room later. "She wasn't _too_ angry. I think she was only crying 'cos she was embarrassed."

Harry slipped his letter into the pre-addressed envelope and held it out to Hedwig, who'd been perched on a chair with another boy' owl. She grabbed the letter from him and flew out of the window. Harry felt a little guilty: it was pretty cold outside.

"Are you nervous?" asked Ron. They both collapsed onto the sofa, sticking their feet out towards the crackling fire.

"Very," said Harry. "What if I'm no good? What if I make a fool out of myself?"

"You won't," shrugged Ron. He bent down and pulled out a chocolate frog box from underneath the sofa. Clearly, he'd hidden it there earlier. He opened it and snapped off the frog's head. He passed it to Harry. "It's in your blood."

"That's what I'm worried about," moped Harry, rolling the chocolate frog's head around in his fingers. "Dad's great at quidditch, everyone knows that. But Mum's awful..."

Ron said nothing. Harry bit into his chocolate and smiled gratefully at his friend. There was at least one person in the school who wouldn't mock him if he failed.

oOoOoOoO

Her son was not dead. He was not being bullied and he had not been eaten by a troll. Receiving Harry's letters made Lily's heart soar. This letter in particular put all her worries to bed. He was exactly like James and therefore, he was a survivor. He was a quidditch prodigy and, based on how many letters Sirius was receiving from his godson, he was only revealing details of his mischief to people who would swear not to tell his mother. He truly was a Potter.

Despite her elation at her son's blatant pride and happiness, Lily could not help but picture her first game. It was the first year of Hogwarts. She'd been sitting with the other Gryffindors, enthralled by this fast-paced magical game. If only she could fly like they did... then, a Hufflepuff beater was hit in the head with the bludger and crashed to the ground, only to be followed throughout the game by a Hufflepuff chaser and Gryffindor seeker.

She shuddered. Distracting herself, she went through to the lounge and grabbed some parchment, ink and a quill.

"_My Dearest James..." _she began. _"If you know what's good for you, you'll come home early today. You'll never guess what our son has managed to do..."_

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. Let me know what you think! REVIEEWWWW! _


	10. A Muggle Encounter

Diagon Alley was nowhere near as busy as it was in Summer that year. James might've had time to enjoy a butterbeer at The Leaky Cauldron with Padfoot and Moony, but he hadn't had time to invite his friends. He had a few days to buy what he needed, and he wanted to buy them straight away.

The bell above the door of Broomstix tingled as he entered. He stamped the thin splatterings of snow off his boots and marched straight over to the young lad at the counter.

"Hello, welcome to Broomstix, where we sell the finest broomsticks in Diagon Alley. How may I help you?" the pimply boy droned without looking up from his quidditch magazine.

"That broomstick in the window- how much is it?" asked James.

"Ninety galleons."

"I'll buy that one, please."

The boy looked up. James stood waiting patiently while the boy gawped, shocked. "Er... er, Okay. Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. The Nimbus 2000 for me, please!" James stepped aside, gesturing for the boy to get the broom. The boy obliged, stumbling a little along the way. With careful craftsman's hands, he lifted the broom from its stand in the window. Outside, a group of wizards ogled James as he took the broom into his own hands.

"It's excellent."

"And it's ninety galleons."

James raised an eyebrow at the boy. He placed the hessian bag of gold on the counter as they boy disappeared into the cellar, presumably for wrappings. As soon as James was left alone, the door flung open again. The bell announced a sharp blast of cold from outside.

"Sorry, sorry!" whispered a tall, skinny man in jeans and a fleece. James smiled awkwardly at him. From the corner of his eye, he watched the man gawp blankly at the left wall, on which a handful of broomstick manuals were displayed. The man turned back around. James pretended to examine the manuals on the wall too.

"Excuse me? Do you work here?" asked the man. James looked back at him.

"No, I don't, sorry," he replied.

"Oh. Never mind, then." The man turned back to the manuals. He was clueless.

"But I'm sure I'd be able to help anyway?" offered James, taking a step towards him. The man nodded, examining the titles of the books.

"Yes, erm... well, I'm not sure what I'm looking for really, erm... I'm looking for a book on, um, flying."

"...flying?" echoed James.

"Yes. Tips and advice, that sort of thing."

James stared at the books, completely baffled as to whether such a book existed. He'd never heard of a wizard ever needing such a thing! Surely this man was off his rocker...

"Flying is... pretty instinctual once you've mastered the basics. Are you sure it's not your broom that's faulty?"

"Oh, no, it's not for me! It's for my daughter, she... she's not very good at flying. I, erm... I don't fly."

James nearly exploded into rapid-fire questions about how a wizard could _live _without flying. However, it didn't take him long to put two and two together and realise that no wizard could.

"You're a muggle?" he guessed. The man nodded, looking at the floor. Suddenly, the boy burst out from the cellar door with two brooms in his hand. He handed the one wrapped in paper to James.

"Here you are, Sir. Pleasure doing business with you."

He placed the other Nimbus 2000 in the window, in the place of the one James had bought.

"Old broom run out of petrol, has it?" the muggle man joked feebly. James laughed uncomfortably.

"No, just needed an update. It's for my son. It's his first quidditch game next week!" James grinned proudly. "My boy's the youngest seeker of the century!"

The man furrowed his eyebrows. "Gryffindor, is it?" he guessed.

"Er... yeah. How did you-"

"Good grief! Harry Potter's your boy!"

James was about to speak of his resentment towards anything that connoted his son's fame, when the man extended his hand.

"Robert Granger. Your son's been very kind to-"

"Hermione! That's your daughter? ...she's having trouble flying?" James recalled a memory from a year ago. Harry was in this very shop, prodding and inspecting all the broomsticks, fantasizing out loud about playing quidditch with his Hogwarts friends over summer. Apparently that wasn't going to happen with Hermione...

"I do feel a little useless sometimes. You know, when she writes. I can't teach her to fly. I _certainly _can't help her with homework...not that she needs much help." Mr Granger smiled inwardly to himself. "You know, when she was little, she used to watch a lot of films on the television. Er, muggle image-procession player. Er, for entertainment purposes. Anyway, _sometimes_, the films would get stuck on Hermione's favourite parts. We'd often end up watching a scene ten times before it moved on. We thought it was ever such a funny coincidence... we didn't realise it was her doing it all along." Mr Granger's nostalgic smile faded into a hopeless frown, as though trying to think back to where he left a lost possession.

"Growing up in the wizarding world... for a girl, I mean... I can't help her with that either. Is it different?" he asked.

"A bit," James said weakly. Mr Granger nodded, looking quite hurt.

"My wife's muggle-born," James told the man, who looked up at him with wide eyes. "I could get her to talk to Hermione, if you like. You know, about... about stuff. In our world."

James didn't want to pry, but surely growing up as a muggle was not that different. What was Hermione's mother doing that meant she couldn't talk to her daughter about such things?

"Thank you, that... that's very kind of you."

The two men left the shop and shook hands as a parting gesture in the snowy alley. James pointed to a shop further down which sold books on most wizarding subjects. Perhaps Mr Granger would be able to find his flying manual there, although he wouldn't need it. James told his new friend that Hermione would be more than welcome to visit the Potter's house in the holidays, where he and Harry would help her learn to fly.


	11. First Acquaintances

It was a sorrowful day for many people in the wizarding world.

Lily was surprised that she'd managed to reach the Lovegoods' house without being swept up by a tide of other witches and wizards who were on their way to offer the same condolences as she was. Xenophilius was on his own.

"You'd better wait outside," instructed Lily to her daughter, who frowned. They'd been trudging across baron heaths for nearly half an hour towards a funny-looking house. It was spooky out here, and probably much more fun inside. Mr Lovegood was bound to give her a Fidgeting Flapjack.

"_Please _may I go in with you?" Alice begged.

Lily sighed. "No, darling. Not today."

"Why not?"

"Because you might make Mr Lovegood uncomfortable."

"But _why?"_

"_Because..._" Lily spun round and dropped to her knees, right in front of her daughter. There was pity in her eyes, right at the back of them. Alice could see it.

"Because today is going to be a very difficult day for him. It always will be, every year. He's upset. He might even cry. He doesn't want a little girl like you to see him cry, does he?"

"But I'm _not _a little girl..."

"I know, I know. But just for today, please stay outside. For me." Lily grabbed her daughter's hands and kissed them. Alice continued to pout, but Lily just rolled her eyes. Alice had pouted at the smallest thing, even when she was a baby.

"Come inside if it's an emergency. I won't be long." Lily dropped Alice's hands and climbed up the steep stone steps to the front door. Rather than knocking, she pushed it open. Mr Lovegood hadn't bothered to lock it. Alice heard her Mum call for him as she shut the door.

oOoOoOoOo

Ten minutes past. Just ten minutes, and Alice wished she'd never insisted on coming. "_You'll be bored"_ her mother had said. Too right...

She sat cross-legged in the long itchy grass, tugging it and threading it and twisting it out of boredom. No more interesting birds were flying overhead anymore.

Her weak, intangible thoughts transformed into thoughts of Mrs Lovegood. Alice Potter had a remarkable talent for remembering names and faces, and could picture Mrs Lovegood now: her wild mane of yellow hair; her frilly pink dresses and orange dungarees; her scent of tangy fruit and her breezy laugh. Had she really been gone for a whole year? It seemed like weeks since they'd last met. She'd been standing in the doorway, saying a quick farewell to Lily after a nice dinner when Alice had been woken up. She'd crept down the stairs and the two women spotted her. Instead of scolding her for snooping, Janina Lovegood had smiled dreamily up at her and fished out a cactus-flavoured chocolate from her purse to give her...

Her stomach growled. _Why hadn't she finished all of her breakfast?_ Maybe Mr Lovegood would burst out of the house any minute, appalled that Lily had left her outside. He would usher her inside and would feed her a Fidgeting Flapjack.

She really was starving. She looked around pessimistically for something to eat. She'd start eating the grass if she needed to...

What happened next was fascinating, but not astonishing. It wasn't the first time that Alice had performed such magic without trying. The dry, insignificant little seeds in her hand from the long grasses she'd been toying with suddenly clumped together and merged into a pebble. Alice watched with intrigue as the pebble sprouted a shoot, which stretched and reached and grew until it split into a frayed blade. The frayed tips hung down around the shoot as they started to grow small silver fruits.

"How pretty"

Alice gasped and leapt to her feet, brushing the magical little fruit tree off on her dress. A tall, ancient man in lilac-grey robes and hat and a long grey beard was standing in front of her, watching nonchalantly as she became increasingly flustered. A plump, red-faced jolly man stood behind him, along with a lanky copper-haired boy who looked solemn. _You're not meant to do magic outside Hogwarts!_ Harry had warned her before he'd left for Hogwarts. _If you do, they'll know!_

And here, with some ministry officials, was Albus Dumbledore. She recognised him from the chocolate frog cards.

"I'm so sorry, I..."

"Oh no, don't stop on my account! Do carry on, I was rather enjoying the show..."

"I didn't mean to!"

"I don't doubt you, Miss Potter. You must be exceptionally peckish to conjure such a beauty. It's a pity, I usually keep a handful of liquorice snaps in my pocket for these such occasions, but I've recently stopped. Spending your evenings sewing up the holes in your pockets is no way to live!" Dumbledore spoke wistfully. "Anyhow, must dash. My old friend here, Mr Diggory, is needed indoors," he smiled pleasantly at her again before leading Mr Diggory up the steps. The young boy stayed where he was.

"My mother's in there!" Alice called out to Dumbledore as he neared the front door. He and Mr Diggory turned and looked at her. "If it's not too much of an inconvenience, could you please tell her to hurry up?"

The young boy snorted. Dumbledore looked from Alice to Mr Diggory and chuckled. "Charming... _Charming!_" he mused, turning back and allowing himself into the house. The door clicked shut behind Mr Diggory. Alice turned back to the boy who she now noticed to be wearing Hogwarts robes.

"Why aren't you at school?" she asked him bluntly. He shrugged.

"Temporary leave. I'm only off for a day. Janina was my second cousin."

The boy did not look sad. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a tuft of long-grass. Silence permeated the breeze around them and Alice could do nothing but scratch through the rubbish ideas of condolence words in her head.

"You know," he began again. "If you're hungry, I reckon you could give those things a try..." the boy pointed towards the house. Alice turned and saw that he meant the dirigible plum shrubbery that hugged the lower part of the house.

"I've eaten those before," she told him as she approached the bush. . "They're good for your heart. I think you should have one too." She plucked two of the floating, swaying orange fruits and held one out to him.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because-"

"Good morning, everyone!" called a voice. From round the other side of the house, Luna Lovegood skipped into view. Her eyes landed on the fruits in Alice's hands.

"Oh, you poor things!" she cried, rushing towards Alice. At first, she thought Luna had been talking to the plums in her hand. It wouldn't have surprised her. Luna Lovegood's quirkiness meant that she bore the brunt of all jokes at community parties in the wizarding world. Elsie Black found her hilarious and Alice usually avoided her.

"Luna... are you alright?" asked the boy.

"Don't worry about me, Cedric. I'm worried about you two. Why did you never tell me? It's nothing to be ashamed of..."

"What are you talking about, Luna?" asked Cedric. Alice was too intimidated by Luna's intense blue stare to speak.

"It is a sad fact that young people in the wizarding community are still illiterate. I had no idea that so many people close to my family suffered from it."

"Luna," sighed Cedric, stepping towards them. "We're not illiterate. Alice and I can read perfectly well. Now what on earth makes you think we can't?"

Luna looked from him to Alice to the fruits in her hand. "You both must be colour-blind then. It's quite impossible to not see the sign." Luna pointed to the slate of bark that was wedged into the leaves of the shrub: _"Keep off the dirigible plums."_

"Mum planted those there. They were her favourites."

For a moment, Alice was wracked with guilt. Only for a moment. She knew these plants belonged to Mrs Lovegood. She could remember what she'd told Alice about them...

"Oh, Luna, er... we're really sorry. We didn't know-" he was silenced by the sight of little Alice Potter holding out one of the dirigible plums to Luna, whose blank expression remained just that.

"I used to come here lots when I was little. Your Mum told me that the juice of a dirigible plum helps you to accept the extraordinary. I think that if my Mum died, then I would eat one of these. It's extraordinary how the whole world changes when one person leaves us, isn't it?"

A crow cawed overhead. The breeze whistled around the splintered shingles of the house and danced in and around the wind chimes at the door. Luna Lovegood took a plum from Alice Potter and bit it. Cedric Diggory held his breath. Luna chewed slowly and mechanically, then raised her eyebrows.

"Now that you say it, the world _is _extraordinary. So was Mum."

Luna took one more bite and lifted the core into the air like a balloon. For a muggle, it would've been strange seeing a dense object such as a fruit core wafting and billowing in the breeze, flying further upwards towards the white sky. For wizards, it is merely a melancholy sight.

oOoOoOoOo

"Thank you, Lily," Xenophilius Lovegood blubbed into his friend's shoulder. She'd been sitting on the arm of his chair for quite some time while he'd sobbed into her arms. "Having a friend makes one feel so very warm."

She pulled away from him. "I'm always here for you, Xeno. You know that."

He nodded, wiping his nose with his own sleeve. The door opened at that moment and in stepped their old school Headmaster.

"Good afternoon to you all," he said, holding the door open for another gentleman to come in. "Mrs Potter, I just had the pleasure of meeting young Alice outside just now. What a delightful young girl she is! Wasn't she, Amos?"

"Oh yes! Quite charming."

Lily smiled. It wouldn't be soon before Alice would join Dumbledore at his school. Lily had mixed feelings of loss and happiness at the idea that her old schoolmaster was now her son's schoolmaster. It was as though she was living in a silly little pre-pubescent daydream.

"Thank you, Sirs," she said kindly. They smiled at her and their eyes landed on Xenophilius.

"Xenophilius, my dear fellow..." began Amos Diggory, approaching his late cousin's husband with open arms. "this day must be painful for you and for your dear Luna!" the two men embraced once Xenophilius was standing. It was endearing that Xenophilius didn't cry.

"Aye, it is quite difficult for us both. Alas, these things must be endured if we are to come out the other side happy."

"Well said, Xenophilius!" commented Dumbledore from the window. He'd apparently watching an exchange between the children outside. "Wise words, indeed. I might use them in the future, if I may?"

"Er... yes, of course..."

"Let's hope words such as those are not needed again in the near future," sighed Lily from the armchair. The men agreed quietly.

"Well, I'd better be going," declared Lily, standing up. The arm of the chair had been rather uncomfortable. "I'm sure my daughter's ripping her hair out with boredom!"

"Oh I wouldn't be too sure of that, Lily," said Dumbledore. "I'll be leaving now too, Xenophilius, if that's alright with you. The Care of Magical Creatures syllabus won't appraise itself!" Dumbledore stepped purposefully into a larger space of the downstairs area. "Watch out for Luna's letter, Xenophilius. It won't be long now. And Lily..."

Lily whirled round just before she was about to open the door.

"Your daughter is an exceptional young witch. I shall be watching her most closely when she joins the school."

With a loud pop, he vanished. Lily grinned at her ambiguous old professor before rushing outside to hug her daughter.


	12. How Nice

_A/N- Thank you kindly to everyone who's reviewed/favourited/followed so far! I do love reviews!_

_I've been away visiting friends for the past few days so haven't been updating but I'm back on the bandwaggon now!_

When Lily Evans had arrived at platform 9 ¾ at the end of the first term at Hogwarts, she'd noticed how all the older students met their parents quite casually. They were the ones who stood leaning against the back wall looking tired. Usually they were alone. The first years' parents were the ones buzzing with anticipation at the very edge of the platform, usually accompanied by their child's grandchildren or siblings... her parents had been exactly the same: their magical daughter returning from her first term at her magical school called for a big welcome reception.

Now, she and her husband were playing the roles of overbearing parent. Their car could not accommodate anyone else coming with them to collect Harry from the station, but a surprise was waiting for him at home. Lily was eager to see his reaction. He'd be here any minute now...

"Mr Granger! Good to see you again!" she heard her husband say. Beside her, James was shaking hands with a skinny fair-haired man who looked rather nervous. He was accompanied by a tall, beautiful woman.

"Lily, this is Hermione's father!" he explained, though he didn't have to. Lily saw Hermione in him: his mouth had smiled at him before in a picture that Harry had sent her of his two best friends. She'd been amazed when James came home from Diagon Alley and told her that he'd met Mr Granger.

"It's ever so nice to meet you," said Lily, shaking his hand and smiling warmly. "Harry talks of his friends so often. It sounds like Hermione's quite the academic!"

Beside him, the beautiful woman coughed.

"Oh, erm... this is my wife, Jean."

Jean Granger looked impossibly young. She smiled briefly at Lily and James before looking back down the track in search of the train.

"How did Harry's er... _quidditch_ session go?" asked Mr Granger, clearly void of all knowledge of the sport. He reminded her of her own parents when she'd tried and failed at explaining the sport.

"Brilliantly!" James said proudly. "Gryffindor won. Harry caught the snitch."

"The what?"

"The... erm... ball with most points."

"Ah. Very good."

The four adults lapsed into silence again. James kept looking to Jean and thinking back to his conversation with Mr Granger weeks before: that Hermione had no-one to turn to where growing up was concerned. What was wrong with Jean? She was clearly Hermione's mother, you could see that from a mile off...

"So, erm... any plans for the holidays?" asked Mr Granger after a while. James looked at Lily to answer. She would be the best at censoring out any alarming wizarding traditions.

"Not really, no. We tend to keep things at home during Christmas."

They heard Jean Granger snort.

"A friend of Harry's is staying with us. His parents are going abroad for Christmas. Should be a busy house this holiday!" Lily grinned. At that moment, the group of parents heard a hollow, echoing whistle that made everyone's hearts soar. Conversations bubbled again.

When the train was in the station, Lily and James battled to get through the converging crowds but to no avail. They stood uselessly at the back, hoping Harry would be able to see them from there.

"Mum!"

"HARRY!"

The second Harry squeezed himself through the crowds to the back of the platform, his mother pulled him into her arms, not noticing the red-headed boy that was being crushed awkwardly between two plump grandmas in the crowd.

"Er... can someone give me a hand?" Ron strained awkwardly. Lily, who was still squeezing the life out of her son, opened her eyes and smiled apologetically at the fellow ginger. She released Harry and pulled Ron awkwardly from between the two chubby old women by his faded old robes. While Harry and James had a quick catch-up, Lily unthinkingly brushed pastry crumbs from the ginger boy's robes.

"Good journey, was it?" she chuckled, fondly remembering the hours spent in her childhood on the Hogwarts express wolfing down pumpkin pasties. Ron looked tired and glum.

"Yeah, it was alright. Although we had to listen to..."

"_Ahem!_" called a snooty voice from behind them. A bushy-haired girl strode out from the dispersing crowds, lugging a suitcase behind her. She was glaring at Ron and did not seem to notice anybody else watching her.

"Ronald, I was _trying _to get you and Harry to understand that you simply can't just ignore your school work until the end of the holidays! I might've sounded a little forceful but I think I was being perfectly-"

"Did we _really_ need to hear it over and over again throughout the entire journey?" interjected Ron grumpily.

Lily had chuckled at the pre-pubescent sour mood that she and James were overly familiar with, but no sooner had he spoken, Hermione had forgotten the argument completely, dropped her suitcase and rushed over to her father, who wrapped his arms fondly around his daughter. It was an odd sight to see, because as soon as Hermione was set free, Mr Granger seemed to stiffen again. He tugged at his wife's sleeve. Jean Granger had been totally impassive in this reunion until her husband had caught her attention, at which point she put an arm around Hermione's shoulders and smiled. James, Harry and Ron all picked up on this uncomfortable exchange as well.

"Well, erm... it's good to meet you both finally!" said James, breaking the ice. "Harry's told us all about you in his owls!"

Ron turned scarlet. Hermione simply beamed.

"Really, Harry?" she asked, looking awe-struck at him. "You talk about me in your owls?" Hermione's face suddenly turned from an expression of deep gratitude to one of astonishment as she finally lay eyes on Lily Potter.

"Mrs Potter, it is an honour to see you again!" Hermione thrust her hand out towards Lily, who shook it amusedly. Ron looked to Harry and rolled his eyes.

"I read _Absurdly Difficult Potions Explained_ about four times this termr, didn't I, Dad? It was simply fascinating! Ooh, and Harry tells us that you're writing another book! Is it true? Will there be any developments on _Felix Felicis_? Oh gosh, I'm talking nonsense... I'm so sorry... erm..." Hermione turned as red as Lily was by the end of her verbal diarrhoea.

"Gosh, Hermione, erm..." stumbled Lily, before Jean Granger interjected.

"Hermione, stop embarrassing Mrs Potter. We've all got homes to go to!"

"Sorry, Mum," Hermione mumbled, blushing once again. As the group began to file out of the platform, back through the main section of King's Cross Station, Lily managed to keep up with Hermione.

"My new book," Lily began in a murmur that only Hermione could hear. "Is quite different from my other work."

Hermione looked up at her, confused. "How so?"

"It's... well, let's just say it's not as fitting for a classroom scenario as my last book was. You'll see when it's published."

"Oh... is it too complex?"

"Oh, nothing like that! It's perfectly suitable for students of your age..." Lily was about to continue, but noticed Hermione appeared disheartened. Maybe it was the fact that the new book would not challenge her as she had hoped, or that an author that she seemed fond of was not confiding all her literary secrets to her, or perhaps it was Lily's assumption that Hermione's reading age was anything near that of her classmates. By this time, they were outside the station. Lily had little time to make amends.

"Tell you what," Lily began again. "How about you visit us after Boxing Day and you critique a few of my sample chapters? What do you say to that?"

Hermione's face suddenly lit up with so much excitement that Lily found herself beaming too. In front of them, Mr Granger had undoubtedly heard the girls' exchange, as he was walking several inches taller than he was before. He looked back at Lily and Hermione and smiled pleasantly.

"Oh, Mrs Potter!" drawled Jean Granger, sauntering up beside her daughter. "That is _so _kind of you, really, but I'm afraid we're leaving for France tomorrow so Hermione won't see her dear friends until next term. Say goodbye, darling!"

Lily felt as though she'd walked into a wall. It was the same feeling that one experiences when you are publicly told off by a teacher. Hermione said a miserable farewell to her friends and was then bundled into a new-looking Audi by her mother. James steered the boys away from the Granger family, giving Lily a knowing look of concealed suspicion. Just before the Grangers drove away, Lily caught the eye of Mr Granger. He was watching the group of wizards walk away with an expression that could be identified on a small boy who'd been banned from playing out in the snow. Lily waved sympathetically at him and he waved back, but was overshadowed by his daughter's manic propeller waving in the back seat. Lily chuckled to herself and picked up the pace, hoping to let Ron in on Harry's surprise party before they reached home.

_So, what it terrible?_

_PLEASE let me know what you think. It'll only take a second and all praise/criticism is appreciated and taken into account! _

_I'm open to suggestions! If there's any pairing interaction or specific scene you'd like to see, do let me know in the reviews! _

_Feel free to follow me on tumblr! If you send me an ask telling me you've been reading my fic, I'll follow you and I won't publish your message :) _


	13. Morning and The Black Dance

_A/N: Okay so this is a bit of a long one! I do like it though, and it all fits together nicely so I hope you like it!_

_Thank you to everyone who's reviewed so far! I love getting reviews, they make such a difference!_

Christmas Day lived up to all it promised to be. When Harry woke up that morning and saw his chocolate frog card collection, which he and Ron had been expertly appraising the previous night, he was reminded that this day was the day he'd been looking forward to for 365 days. He allowed himself the nostalgic smile that came to his face every Christmas morning before he leapt out of bed. He tore across the landing, his excitement intensified as the sounds and smells of a bustly kitchen wafted up the stairs. He barged into the guest bedroom where Ron had made himself at home; his clothes and belongings were everywhere.

"Wake up, Ron! It's Christmas!" he beamed, shaking Ron's shoulder. Ron made a noise which sounded a lot like "Merblerfler". At that moment, a fresh-faced Alice Potter bounded into the room and leapt onto Ron. He wheezed and rolled over, fully awake now.

"Yeah, Ron, wake up! We've got presents to open!"

At that, Ron scrambled to his feet, knocking Alice off the bed.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" he bellowed, practically jumping with excitement. Harry and Alice followed Ron back out of the guest bedroom and down the hallway. Lily and James emerged from the kitchen, giggling at the herd of elephants that were bounding down the stairs.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!" James cheered. Everyone exchanged good-wishes, but Alice was practically scratching the living room door open.

"Like a cat locked out of the kitchen at dinner time," said James, rolling his eyes. Lily, who was wrapped in her old fluffy blue dressing down, acknowledged the signal from James with a nod and opened the living room door _slowly._ There was no need for teasing theatrics: the three children charged through the door and into the living room. They were greeted with a crackling fire, plates of mince pies, twinkling lights, a gentle ceiling-snow charm and bulging stockings. Presents of all shapes were placed higgledy-piggledy around the small glittery Christmas tree.

"This is magical!" exclaimed Alice, whirling around the coffee table.

"That's the whole point, Alice," Ron grinned. He and Alice had bonded late that previous evening when Harry had forced him to go and explain to her that Hogwarts was the safest place in the wizarding world. Now, though Harry had no reason to be jealous, he could see the bonds of brother and sister forming between Alice and his best friend.

By the time Harry was finished emptying his stocking, Ron had almost finished eating the contents of his. The presents were generous. Mrs Weasley had sent her presents for Ron over to the Potters' house the previous evening, and so Ron was not left out of the festivities. He was surprised, however, to find that he'd received two extra presents than he'd expected to receive: A box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans from Hermione Granger of all people... and a squishy parcel from Lily and James Potter.

"This is from us, Ron," smiled Lily, passing the gift over to him. "Happy Christmas."

Ron tore open the gold paper and his eyes bulged as he pulled out a shiny new leather jacket.

"Whoa... this is for me?!" he exclaimed, twisting the jacket around in his hands. He got to his feet and pulled it on, zipping it up and standing a little taller than usual.

"Very handsome indeed!" giggled Lily. "Though we can refund it if you want. I've still got the receipt..."

"It's _brilliant_!" Ron nearly shouted, admiring himself in the mirror above the mantelpiece. "I never get new clothes! Fred and George will go green when they see this!"

"I hope Mrs Weasley doesn't think we've been too flashy..." fretted Lily, but her husband didn't seem to see any problem.

"You'll get a lot of attention in that thing, Ron!" James laughed, taking a sip of his tea. "You might even impress a girl! Someone like... oh, I dunno... Hermione Granger?" James gestured to the box of sweets she'd sent him.

"EURGH!" Ron snorted. "Not likely! That girl's _mental_! And Harry got something from her too, not just me!"

James and Lily laughed as Harry searched frantically for even more sweets that he'd been bought. Ron quickly encouraged Harry and Alice to open more presents, lest the conversation about Hermione continue. Pretty soon, the whole family were shredding the wrapping paper of their final presents.

"Here, Harry," said Lily, pulling a rather large, heavy box out from round the side of the Christmas tree where it had been concealed. "This is your last one, I think."

Harry stared at the box curiously. He couldn't think of anything that big that he'd hinted at over the past few weeks... what on earth could it be?

He struggled to find somewhere to start ripping paper from. When he rolled the box over, something heavy clunked inside and James gulped. His hand twitched to the wand in his pocket just before Harry managed to tear through the paper. He and Ron both attacked the wrapping until a wooden box was revealed. It looked like a treasure chest.

"Whoa!" Ron gasped. Harry looked at his beaming parents blankly.

"Go on then, scar-head!" grinned Alice, bouncing on her knees. "Open it!"

Harry looked down at the unlocked latch at the front of the box. He flicked it open and heaved the lid open. Inside, fixed loosely in place, were a quaffle, two bludgers and a golden snitch.

"This is... this is..." Harry spluttered, unsure quite what to say.

"We thought that you and Ron could practice over the holidays," said James. Harry glanced up at Ron, who looked just as excited as he was.

"It's _excellent_!" he proclaimed, smiling widely at his parents. Then, Lily nudged James.

"Ah, and there's one more present for Alice,"

He got up from the floor and disappeared into the hallway. Alice sat up straighter, watching the door closely. Her father emerged moments later, carrying a cage with a linen cloth draped over it. Alice gasped.

"Is it an owl?!" she asked. James put the cage on the coffee table and dramatically whisked the cloth off the cage to reveal a huge black bird.

"It's a raven!" cried Alice, leaping up hurling herself onto the ground right by the cage. She peered in delightfully at the bird, who ruffled its feathers and nibbled one of the bars near Alice's face.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Lily grinned. Alice didn't hear her. She was already engrossed in her new pet's mannerisms.

While Ron and Harry argued over whether ravens ate fudge or not, Lily opened the last of her presents: a garden centre gift voucher from The Dursleys for £5.

"How kind of them," muttered James. Lily rolled her eyes at him.

"Right, everyone!" Lily said suddenly. "Clear up all this paper and take your presents upstairs and _actually put them away_, Harry, don't just dump them on your bed. We're going to The Blacks house this evening."

"Can I bring Morgana?" asked Alice. Her family stared at her.

"Who?" asked Harry.

"My raven..."

"Of course not, Alice, leave her in your room."

oOo

The Black Family's home was not as humble as The Potters' house. It was huge and gothic on the outside, but the inside shone with the glamour of every expensive splurge made by Isabelle Black. It was well-known in the wizarding community that Sirius Black was left destitute when his family gouged him from their hearts and the wills, as was the fact that Isabelle received a generous annual allowance from her muggle father that they added on top of Sirius' salary from his job as a wizarding sports columnist at The Quibbler. The snootier wizarding families considered Isabelle's circumstances to undermine Sirius' hardships that he'd faced in order to obtain a steady salary. Of course, this embarrassed Isabelle very much, however would never be persuaded to tone down her expensive shopping habits.

For Isabelle Black, Christmas was a time for entertaining. In her eyes, a person could not truly be 'merry' unless surrounded by merry people. Since marrying Sirius and buying Black Manor, she had made it tradition to hold a colossal party at their home. Isabelle always insisted that she kept the guest list to family and friends, but Isabelle had _a lot _of friends.

The house, aside from being practically a castle, was unostentatious on the outside. Once Elsie had opened the door for them, the Potters and Ron were hit with warmth, golden light and the sound of a brass band playing old carols in the grand entrance hall. Alice even squealed as she walked in. Ron, who had never attended a Black party on account of his mother insisting that Christmas was a time for family, was equally amazed.

Floating candles bobbed everywhere, illuminating the giant snowflakes which had been charmed to fall gently from the ceiling. Live growing mistletoe tangled around itself in the chandelier and witches and wizards in all manner of bright jolly robes were laughing and chatting happily all around the downstairs.

"Lily! James!" called a voice over the brass band. Isabelle sauntered towards them in a beautiful black gown. Lily no longer felt pale in Isabelle's shadow anymore. She knew that Isabelle would overdress for any occasion.

"Merry Christmas!" she embraced them both, then Harry and Alice. "And who's this?" she asked, looking down at Ron, who was staring up at her with his mouth wide open.

"This is my friend, Ron," said Harry in place of his friend, who seemed unable to speak. "He's staying with us for the holidays."

Before Ron could embarrass himself further by not answering any more questions that Isabelle put to him, he dragged him away in search of anyone he knew. Isabelle's younger children, Henry and Aida, were easy to spot. They were chasing each other through and around the legs of the guests, their matching hazel curls bouncing wildly as they ran. Isabelle had dressed them both in matching outfits of black: Henry in a suit and his twin sister in a black skirt and cardigan. Even their older sister Elsie was dressed in a black velvet dress. Isabelle had never gone to this much trouble to play on the family name before! Maybe the twins weren't wrestling her when she dressed them, now that they were eight years old... Harry dismissed these jovial thoughts as the twins lead Harry, Alice, Elsie and Ron to where Neville and Cedric were listen with forced interest to Luna's tales of her and her father's recent excursion to Belarus.

Lily watched her children fondly, glad that they were friendly enough to always engage their odd and eccentric playmates at these sorts of events. It was a perfect picture. Only, Lily could picture Hermione Granger somewhere in the French Alps, trying to read a book while her mother wagged her finger at Mr Granger. Lily sighed. It would've been rude of her to insist on Hermione visiting. Although she probably would've had a much better time _here_, with company of her own age...

Thoughts of loneliness made something catch Lily's eye. In the corner of the hallway by the kitchen door, Remus Lupin leaned against the wall, staring glumly into a glass of firewhisky. Without hesitating, she slalomed through the bustling witches and wizards towards him.

"Moony?"

He looked up and smiles half-heartedly at her. "Happy Christmas, Lily."

"Why are you moping over here, all by yourself? How come you're not with James and Sirius?"

Remus shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "They've got plenty of people to be talking to as it is. They don't need me."

Lily rolled her eyes. "I wish you weren't so self-deprecating, Moony. Go and enjoy the party!"

"If I do, what about you?"

"Oh, I'm sure Isabelle will need someone to hand out drinks."

"That doesn't seem fair."

"I don't mind. I had my Christmas this morning. The children loved the sweets you sent them, by the way. Thank you. You're very generous."

Remus smiled kindly. "They're good kids." He sighed. "You know, this morning I woke up as excited as I used to be on Christmas morning when I was a boy. It was all very nice, watching Padfoot's family opening their presents, but..." he trailed off. He didn't need to continue either. Lily knew how he was feeling.

"You need a woman, Remus," she grinned, taking his glass from him and sipping. Remus barked a laugh.

"Ha! No chance! You know what'll happen."

"Oh come on, Moony, you never know! You don't give yourself enough credit. Take... take Nymphadora Tonks, for example!" Lily pointed to a girl standing alone, just as awkwardly as Remus had been, with bubble-gum pink hair and dress. "She's got more balls than a quidditch game! Why don't you ask her to dance?"

At that exact moment, the brass band ceased their rendition of "O come all ye faithful" and sank into a slow song. Lily looked over at the band. In front of them, her husband giving them the thumbs-up. He turned and winked at Lily. She giggled.

"Right, I'm off for a dance with the husband. And I'd better see you on that dance floor, Remus, or I'll pair you up with Augusta Longbottom!"

He laughed uncomfortably as she skipped away to her husband, who swiftly took her in his arms. They joined the other couples who were now swaying together around the hall.

"What's Moony's problem?" asked James as they began slowly turning on the spot.

"Empty bed syndrome, I guess," sighed Lily sympathetically. James laughed loudly.

"Oh, James, please don't tease him! He's suffering!" she cried.

James looked around the room and raised an eyebrow at a fixed point. "Well it doesn't bloody well look like he's suffering!"

Baffled, Lily looked over her shoulder to see what he was looking at. Sure enough, Remus Lupin was standing with Nymphadora Tonks, both of them laughing comfortably together. Lily was delighted.

"Jammy sod..." mumbled James with a smirk. Lily stamped on his foot playfully.

"You're a horrible friend, James Potter," she told him. She and James slipped into a pleasant silence, enjoying the last minutes of the dance. Not long later, they were both laughing at the sight of Neville Longbottom's terrified face as Luna Lovegood engaged him in a very lively dance.

_A/N: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! _

_So, what do we think? I hope I did Lily and James' relationship justice in this one. There's just a little reflection of their banter at Hogwarts at the end there. Also, what do you think about the Lily/Remus dynamics? Are they okay?_

_LET ME KNOW._

_And also, are there any other scenes you'd like to see? When Alice goes to Hogwarts (which is soon!) there will be plenty of new faces. Voldemort's demise affected the lives of the Death Eaters as well as The Order..._

_Stay tuned! _

_Nel X_


	14. For Tea

_A/N: Thank you to all those who've followed/favourited/reviewed so far- really appreciate it!_

For Harry, the school year dragged. Of course, Harry and his friends had fun. there were certain perks to living among friends that couldn't be found with living with your parents. Midnight sessions of exploding snap and pillow fights gave Harry dark shadows under his eyes that his mother had picked up on in the Easter holidays. It was worth it, though. Anything his Mum fretted over, came with a life experience and great memories. He'd had to come clean about the arranged midnight duel with Draco Malfoy when Alice had asked her father whether he found any giant three-headed dogs when he and Mummy were at Hogwarts. Then there was quidditch... Harry adored quidditch.

Despite all this, the school year dragged. There were only so many detentions that one could endure from Snape for sneezing when he was speaking and so forth. As brilliant as it was to finally be able to perform magic, Harry was performing poorly in charms and transfiguration. IQ was clearly not hereditary.

There was also Alice to think about. Harry had censored his tales of ghosts and mysteries and evil teachers and night-long detentions and three-headed dogs in a way that was meant to excite her. He and Ron had even explained to her their theory that the Forbidden Forest was only off-limits because Dumbledore held night-long parties there for teachers, with streamers and crackers and music and they didn't want students to get jealous. All this, and Harry had still managed to petrify Alice into dreading Hogwarts. Every letter from his parents came with a tedious side-note, pleading with him to write to Alice about how enjoyable his studies were. He'd given up writing to her in March: she would not believe a word he said.

The school year dragged for Lily, too. She was miserable when Harry was away, and Alice was as good as gone too, being constantly wrapped up in her anxieties. It was just as well that the summer term ended as early as it did, for Lily was about to go mad.

"Harry," Lily had said seriously when they brought him home in July. "Please, I beg of you, talk to your sister!"

"I know, Mum!" Harry had exclaimed. This nagging was nothing new. "Look, Ron told his parents about Alice being worried and they've said she can go and talk to his sister if she wants to. She's starting in September."

This new approach to reassuring Alice was welcomed by Lily, but she feared sounding rude. _Oh, Hello Mrs Weasley. I'm Harry mother. Listen, could I borrow your daughter? My own daughter's terrified of wizarding school and I need someone to calm her down. _No, that wouldn't be right at all. But sure enough, The Potters received an owl from Molly Weasley, inviting the family round for lunch one day in August. Now, it would seen rude _not _to go. And besides, Lily imagined she'd see a lot more of Ron in the future, so meeting his parents wouldn't hurt.

It was a short drive to the Weasley's house through the Potters' district in West Somerset and across to the Devon border. It wasn't long enough for either child to get restless. Instead, they both appeared excited.

"Can we play quidditch while we're there?" asked Harry excitedly.

"Only if you let Alice share your broom," James compromised. Harry groaned.

"I know how fast that thing goes," argued Lily. "Alice is _not _going on that thing!"

"There's Mr Lovegood's house!" exclaimed Alice. They all turned to the left. Sure enough, they were driving along the empty road on the outskirts of Ottery St Catchpole. Mr Lovegood's house looked rather dumpy with its sagging roof tiles and shingles in the middle of baron land. The scenery matched Ron's description of his home perfectly: boring.

However, the drove swerved into a small wooded area, and the Potters were entirely surrounded by trees for a worryingly long time. This would not be a good place to break down... then at last, they emerged from the trees. Coming up was a house twice as tall and rickety as Mr Lovegood's, but surrounded by bright fields and lush trees. Even the sunshine was brighter on this side of the woods. As James brought the car to a stop in front of the house, a plump red-haired woman in a horrible yellow dress was running out to greet them.

"Who's that?" James whispered quickly, but Harry was already getting out of the car.

"Harry, my dear!" cried Mrs Weasley, approaching him with outstretched arms. She embraced him tightly. "It's ever so wonderful to see you again!"

Harry had spent a weekend at The Weasleys' home in the Easter holidays at Ron's insistence when he heard that The Potters had 'low-key' Easters, without many Easter eggs. There was no way Ron was leaving his friend in _that _nightmare.

"And _you _must be Alice!" Mrs Weasley beamed, crouching down to Alice's level. Alice extended her hand.

"Alice Potter: I am delighted to make your acquaintance."

Mrs Weasley looked taken aback by the formality coming from a ten-year-old, but ended up laughing heartily. "What a charming young lady you are!" Mrs Weasley smiled fondly at Alice like a proud parent. "Go on, go and find the boys. Help yourselves to Battenberg, it's on the table!"

Alice ran off in the direction of the house into which Harry and Ron had disappeared seconds ago. The three adults were left to each other outside.

"It's very kind of you to invite us here, Mrs Weasley," said Lily. Molly waved her hand in dismissal.

"Oh, that's quite alright. Any friends of Ron's are friends of ours. Do call me Molly!" the two women approached each other, intent on giving the other a physical greeting. When Lily extended her hand, Molly simply pulled her into a hug much the same way as she had done with Harry.

"How do you do, Mrs Weasley," said James when the two women parted. "I'm Harry's Dad. James."

James was standing a little far back from the women. As Molly appraised him, her cheeks seemed to brighten with a pink-ish hue.

"Oh. It's ever so nice to meet you, Mr Potter. Call me Molly."

"Oh, please, call me James."

Molly giggled and conspicuously tucked her hair behind her ear. "Oh, if you insist."

As Molly lead the Potters into the kitchen, Lily glanced sideways to James, who was smirking. She rolled her eyes and fought back a smirk of her own. She knew what he was doing...

"I've spoken to Ginny about Alice's nerves. Oh, Ginny's ever so excited about Hogwarts. She'll put your Alice's mind at rest. Cake, anyone?" Molly asked. Before either adult answered, she'd cut three slices for each of them. With a swish of her wand, three small plates drifted from the plate rack over to the table. She picked up the slices and plonked them on the plates. "Tuck in!"

Tea was served, and the adults made pleasant small talk: James' job, Harry's and Ron's schoolwork, the old days... how was Dumbledore these days?

"Afternoon, all!" called an eccentric-sounding voice from the living room. Moments later, in stepped a red-haired man in a tight-fitting knitted jumper. "Mollywobbles, I've just seen the Potters' car coming. They'll be here any second!"

"Arthur, dear, they're sitting right here."

Mr Weasley looked down at the two strangers at his dining table. They both smiled up at him politely.

"Oh... pleased to meet you!" he smiled widely, waving at them. Lily and James glanced at each other, then waved back. Mr Weasley furrowed his eyebrows. "Hang on a minute, if they're here _now_, then who did I see coming up the driveway?"

There was a brief moment of looking round at each other, baffled, until Ron's shouts answered their queries.

"Harry! Hermione's here!" he called. Out of the kitchen window, the four adults saw Alice, Ginny, Ron and Harry descend upon the flashy silver car that screeched to a halt on the grass beside the Potters' car.

"Ah yes... I forgot to mention that I was babysitting this week..." Molly said dryly. Lily turned back to her. Her lips were pursed in a child-like scowl.

"Is something wrong, Mrs... er, Molly?" asked James. Molly shuddered back into reality and looked at the man who'd asked her a question. She gave him a timid little smile.

"Oh, erm, of course not... James. It's just..." Molly stood up and went over to the window. Hermione was greeting her friends while Robert and Jean Granger stepped out of the car. Both kept their eyes either on the floor, or away from each other. "That _woman _made her daughter write me an owl, asking if she could stay for the week while her parents went away to a couple's counselling retreat, whatever the devil that means."

By now, Alice and Ginny were dragging Hermione by the wrists towards the house, followed by Harry and Ron who were gallantly hauling her suitcase together. Molly opened the door for them.

"Hello, Mrs Weasley!" chirped Hermione, shrugging Alice and Ginny off of her arms.

"Hermione, dear, how are you?" asked Molly, giving Hermione a hug. Molly's genuine concern for the girl was not lost to the adults, who noticed her watching Mrs Granger like a hawk through the doorway as she ambled towards the house, followed by a dawdling Mr Granger.

"Mrs Potter," began Hermione, swerving round the side of the kitchen table and coming to a stop in front of Lily. "Those sample chapters you sent me were... I... you... _THEY WERE AMAZING!"_.

Molly was about to say something to the approaching Grangers before Hermione's little outburst. Now, everyone was gawping at a very flushed Lily Potter.

"Well, that's very kind of you, Hermione!"

"But _fiction _though, after your previous book?!"

Lily blinked a few times. "I'm sure I did mention that this one was a little different to my previous-"

"I _loved _it. I read it in two nights. I was simply enthralled! The main character was just... and that thing he did... and that other thing... _ugh, _it was perfect! I can't wait to read it again! Is there going to be a sequel?"

"Hermione..." Ron was standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at Hermione, an expression of boredom. "You did it again."

"What did I do?"

"You started talking."

James coughed, choking back a laugh. Hermione's face grew pink with either embarrassment or anger, Lily could not tell which. Eventually, Hermione mumbled something of an apology before storming across the kitchen towards Ron, who squeaked and scurried back up to his room. She stomped up the stairs after him, out of sight.

"I am _so _sorry about her," said Jean Granger, stepping over the threshold and into the house. "She's been in a foul mood with me for days now. She shouldn't be too much trouble now she's here."

"I say..." began Arthur, rubbing his hands together. "That car... what do you muggles use to fuel it?"

Jean Granger stared at Arthur as though he were a dog on his hind legs. "...petrol."

"Ah, petrol... _petrol_... I'm sure I drank a shot or two of it when we were on holiday in Scotland... not pleasant, if I may be so bold. Then again, everything we drank in Scotland was strong enough to floor a hippogriff! AHAHAHA!"

Arthur wheezed with laughter at his own joke, while Lily and James cringed at the tension.

"Yes, well... we'd best be heading back. I don't want to be stuck in rush hour with a migraine andmy moronic husband is _not _helping. Constantly moaning..." Jean continued to rant as she sauntered back out of the house. When Robert Granger didn't move, she looked back at him. "While we're young, Robert!" she shouted after him. Mr Granger looked bashful. His wife scowled. "I'll wait in the car then!" she called, before continuing towards the car.

"Oh, _bye_ ,then..." murmured Molly under her breath. Lily bit her lip.

"Well, erm... it was nice to see you all again. Have a good Summer," said Mr Granger quietly before scurrying back out the door. As soon as he was gone, Molly slammed the door shut.

"I cannot for the life of my fathom _why_ that man is married to her..." Molly rambled, then seemed to remember something.

"Lily, dear, I didn't know you were writing a novel! For children, is it?"she asked, reaching over and pouring more tea into James' mug. He smirked again.

"Hogwarts age," replied Lily, kicking James under the table. "It was meant to be political, although I think that bit breezed over Hermione's head,"

"Poor girl..." sighed Molly. "Imagine Mrs Granger's reaction to a stranger walking in to your home and telling her that her daughter is a witch... how very sad. Now, who would like a nice cheese scone? James?"

oOo

_A/N: Okay so thoughts? _


	15. Crossroads

That Summer, Lily's trip to Flourish and Blotts was dreadful. It was uncomfortable enough with the stifling heat and the hundreds of pushy mothers elbowing each other, arms full of books, craning for a glimpse at today's guest author. That, added to the fact that Lily had to stand there impassively watching her rival writer pose pompously with her son for _The Daily Prophet_'s photographer, Lily had wished that she'd chickened out before James did. Both of them had known today would be miles away from fun when they saw the enormous swarming crowds, which spectacularly dwarfed the mobs of last year's trip. To Isabelle Black's annoyance, Sirius had booked a holiday to Siberia with his family that week, leaving Lily to the company of Molly Weasley and the kids. Stupidly, she'd allowed James to go home. _Alice will be bored_, he'd said. Too bloody right...

"He's rather charismatic, isn't he?" whispered Molly to Lily. She had to force herself not to roll her eyes. It was bad enough having to watch Hermione and Ginny wobbling at the knees in front of her.

"A bit arrogant, though, don't you think?" Lily tried. Molly deliberated for a second.

"Well, I think if you've worked as hard as he has _and _achieved the success that he has, you're allowed a little over-self-confidence,"

Ron snorted beside her. Lily glanced sideways and smirked at him and Neville, who were just as baffled as she was as to why so many women were falling at Gilderoy Lockhart's knees.

"Who's this man with Harry, then?" asked a male voice. The women turned. Mr Granger stood there looking like he'd just been trampled by a herd of centaurs. It was no wonder, seeing as he'd managed to battle his way to the front of the shop.

"Daddy! Where have you been?" asked Hermione. Mr Granger took a deep breath.

"You told me you were going to 'the book shop'. You didn't tell me _which _book shop..."

"Oh... I meant this one."

"Oh yes, well thank you for clarifying."

Hermione grinned sheepishly at him and turned back round, trying very hard to not look as awe-struck as she had done moments ago. Lily smiled at Mr Granger. He didn't seem as antsy today.

"So?" Mr Granger began again. He nodded his head in the direction of Mr Lockhart. "Who's he?"

Ron stepped forward. "Gilderoy bloody Lockhart. He writes books about himself and does nothing else except smile."

Molly swatted her son on the arm. "Ron's just being jealous!" she said, glaring at Ron. "Mr Lockhart has had a _very _successful career..."

"Yeah, after knocking Mrs Potter's first book down to second place on the bestseller list!" exclaimed Ron. Lily ground her teeth as Molly swatted her son again.

"I see..." mused Mr Granger. "looks like he's enjoying himself, doesn't it?"

"Oh yes," Lily chuckled darkly. "Of _course _he is. I mean, who couldn't have that much fun with a camera shoved in their face? Go and grab Harry, will you, Neville? He looks like he's about to hex himself."

Neville shuffled round the side of the counter and awkwardly tugged at Harry sleeve. Harry quickly muttered a farewell to Lockhart, who didn't hear him, and hurried back over to the group.

"Erm, Mrs Potter..." said Mr Granger quietly, before Lily could rant about Lockhart again. He looked a little red. "I was wondering... if I could have a word?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"Mightn't we escape the crowds for a second?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Lily lead Mr Granger back through the groaning hoards of women and their frustrated children to an empty space at the entrance of the shop. He waited a moment before speaking. He ran a hand through his thinning fair hair.

"It's about Hermione," he started. "Last week, she started her... her..."

Lily waited. Mr Granger went even redder.

"Her you-know-whats!"

"... oh."

"Exactly."

Lily stared at him. The poor man... she'd had this conversation with James, forewarning him that Alice's time would come soon enough. James had practically cringed into a ball. Lily had scolded him for being so immature, but even _she _didn't think that periods started this early.

"But she's only, what, twelve?" Lily asked. Mr Granger nodded.

"Exactly. I should've expected it, really... anyway, erm... you see, I've asked Jean to talk to her and she's not having any of it and I've tried talking to Hermione myself but she'd rather die that talk to me about it and she thinks she can learn all about it in books when actually-"

"Hang on," Lily held her hand out to stop him. "Her _mother _is refusing to talk to her about it?"

"Yes..." Mr Granger frowned. "Claims she's too busy."

"Rubbish!" said Lily, a little too loudly. When she saw Mr Granger look down at the floor, she herself turned pink. "I'll talk to Hermione."

He looked up. "You will?"

"Yes. I can't let that girl go back to Hogwarts without being... you know... prepared."

Mr Granger sighed with relief. "I was hoping you'd say that. Thank you. Hermione is very fond of you, you know-"

"Well, well, well..." drawled an unfamiliar voice. "Who do we have here?"

Mr Granger was looking up at someone in fear behind Lily. She turned round. Standing on the staircase was a man in sweeping black robes, with silvery hair and a horse-like face. He swooped down the stairs towards them.

"Lily Potter, is it?" he sneered. "Lucius Malfoy," he extended a leather-gloved hand. "I've heard all about young Harry and his parents from my son. I feel I know you already."

"You must mean Draco," said Lily quickly, after recognising the surname from Harry's letters. "Yes, he's quite the disciplinarian, isn't he?"

Lucius pursed his lips in a sort-of-smile. "I was surprised to hear that young Harry wasn't sorted into Slytherin. How disappointing! Although... I suppose that's to be expected, with muggle inheritance..."

Lily felt her face flame with fury. She breathed heavily.

"Tell me, does he struggle in classes?"

"No. He excels in everything."

That was a lie and she knew it. Apparently, so did Lucius Malfoy.

"How odd. That's not what I hear..." he cocked his head to the side like a curious child. "I hear Defence Against the Dark Arts isn't Harry's forte."

Lily was going to take no more. The day had been lousy and she'd had enough.

"That's because Snape is just as prejudice as the rest of Slytherin house," she growled. "And if your horrid son paid more attention to his work than the lives of Harry and his friends, I'm sure he'd be doing a lot better, too."

Lucius did little to hide his shock. Lily raised her eyebrow victoriously.

"You filthy little-"

"I say, Sir!" barked Mr Granger suddenly. Lily whirled round. He wore an expression of anger that she hadn't imagined he could ever muster. Behind him, the rest of their group were joining them, looking warily at the scene.

"You are being rather rude to Mrs Potter! We are in public and you're being obscene!"

Out of the people who were watching, Hermione looked the most stunned. Lily allowed herself a little smile. Mr Granger's attempt at laying the law was feeble, but he was standing up for her and she was grateful. She went to stand beside him.

"Mr Malfoy, this is my dear friend Robert Granger. He's a muggle!"

Lily took a great deal of satisfaction from seeing Lucius' nose twitch briefly into a snarl.

"Oh, and this is his daughter, Hermione. Brightest witch in their year group, so I here."

Hermione looked up at her with watery eyes. Lily smiled at her before Lucius flung open the door of the shop.

"You people..." he spat. "I'll be speaking to the Minister about this. Muggles in Diagon Alley... it's disgusting."

Mr Granger's confidence did not falter in Lucius Malfoy's deathly glare. Instead, Mr Granger raised his head a little. Lucius turned to Lily.

"Perhaps I'll see you again, Mrs Potter. My younger son will be joining Hogwarts next year. I'll instruct him to look out for... Alice, is it?"

"If you're talking about turning another one of your spawn into a bully, Sir," she growled. "I'll have none of it. And as you suggested before, there's no danger of our children being in the same house."

Lucius did not say another word. Instead, he stormed out of the shop and down the street, pushing groups of people apart as he went. Lily sighed. Anger made her ache.

"Mum?" asked Harry quietly. "Are you alright? What was that about?"

"Don't worry about it," said Lily seriously. "We were just batting around some harmless little words. Now, you lot go on and get Ginny a wand. Hermione, you're coming with me."

Everyone looked a little surprised and confused, even Hermione. The rest of the group were ushered out of the shop by Molly, who gave Lily a knowing glance before leaving the shop herself.

"Where are we going?" asked Hermione.

"Florean Fortescue's," answered Lily. "We're going to have a little chat, and we'll need a lot of ice cream."

oOo

_A/N: Please note that this is purely for enjoyment and if you don't agree with where the plot is going, please take my advice and write your OWN fanfiction. We are all allowed our creative liscences and if you think that you could write a better fanfic, then by all means do so. I actually encourage it. _

_Also: Yes, yes yes! Lucius has two sons! And before you all shit in my face, I'd just like to say that I always thought that Voldemort's death would have affected EVERYONE, not just Harry. Believe me, the younger Malfoy boy is not the most shocking existence coming up in this story. Did I mention that Voldemort's death affected everyone?_

_I hope you're all enjoying the story so far._

_Nel X_


	16. Harmless Little Words

"Can I tell you two a secret?" asked Ron rather casually as they marched down the corridor. "Part of me was hoping Ginny wouldn't get into Gryffindor."

"_Ron!_" exclaimed Hermione. "How could you say that?!"

"Well, obviously I'm glad she's not in Slytherin!" Ron said quickly. "It's just gunna be annoying having her in the common room all the time."

"Okay... why?" asked Harry.

Ron shrugged. "She tells Mum everything. She'll probably tell her everything I get up to."

"Like what?" Hermione scoffed. "It's not as though you're always up there kissing girls!"

"Eurgh, not bloody likely!" he crinkled his nose. Behind them, they heard jeering laughter. They looked over their shoulders to see Draco Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle cackling behind them.

"What was that, Weasley?" teased Draco. "Not a fan of girls, eh? I'm sure the feeling is mutual!"

"Piss off, Malfoy," grumbled Ron, going pink.

"Ignore him, Ronald," growled Hermione. "Remember what Mrs Potter said about harmless little words?"

Before Ron could respond, Draco interjected.

"Oh, I know _all _about what Potter's mother said to my father in Flourish & Blotts, Granger!" he retorted, swaggering up towards her. "It's obvious where Potter gets his vicious pitbull persona from!"

"You can talk, Malfoy," said Harry, stepping right up to him. "I can't imagine your father has many friends with the way he speaks to people."

Draco's upper lip twitched into a snarl in much the same way to the way Lucius Malfoy's face had done just days before.

"How _dare _you talk about my father like that!" spat Draco.

"Second years!" called a voice from the other end of the corridor. The group turned to see Professor McGonagall watching them with raised eyebrows. "Less chatting, more walking to lessons!"

"Come on," sighed Harry, grabbing his best friends by the shoulders. "I don't want to give Snape a reason to give us a months' detention on the first day back..."

The trio, uncomfortably flanked by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, squeezed their way through the hoards of lost first years as politely as they could, managing to get to their seats in the classroom seconds before Snape arrived.

"Silence," he droned as his welcome-back greeting. "Desks to the edge of the classroom, wands out."

"Are we having a practical lesson today, Professor?" asked Hermione eagerly.

"You astound me with your observational skills, Miss Granger, now push your desk to the edge of the room."

Hermione huffed and obeyed, eliciting a smirk from Ron. She scowled at him. The second years arranged themselves in a horse-shoe shape around the newly-formed space in the middle of the room, hesitant to jump into whatever experiment Snape had planned.

"Today we'll be practising the Severing Charm. If you don't pay attention, you'll fail the homework task..."

As he began to explain the severing charm, Ron leaned towards Harry to whisper something in his ear.

"Severus is teaching the Severing charm. D'you get it?"

Snape was now facing their section of the room as he was talking. Harry kept his eyes fixed on Snape.

"Harry? D'you get it? His names' Severus. Severing charm. It's Severus' charm."

Harry tried so hard to keep a straight face, but any sentence with Severus and charm in it was deadly to composure. As such, he burst out laughing.

It was amazing, really, how pale and stone-like a person's face can be. That's the first thought that came to Harry when he was finished cackling with laughter and he looked up to see Snape and the rest of the people in the room staring at him.

"Enlighten us, Potter," said Snape. "What is it that you find so amusing about the Severing charm?"

Harry's stomach churned as he bit his lip, suppressing another giggle. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps it's the simplicity of such a spell. I recall that your father never failed to make his spells prowess known to all."

Harry's humour left him. Now, he was just as stone-faced as his teacher.

"Malfoy, step forward. You and Mr Potter shall demonstrate the severing charm to the class."

Harry shot a wide-eyed look to Ron and Hermione as he shuffled forward into the centre of the room. Ron shrugged and gave him a pitying look. Hermione theatrically mouthed something that looked like _divvy-toe._

Snape gave his wand a flourish and from the corner of the room, a small wooden box drifted through mid-air towards him. He impatiently stepped forward, grabbed it, flipped open the lid and held it out to Harry and Draco. Inside was a matted tangle of thick string.

"Take one each" Snape ordered. Both boys stuck their hands in and Harry, with trembling hands, wrestled with a particularly big clump of string.

"While we're young, Potter."

At the back of the room, Seamus Finnigan snorted. Snape shoved the box in Harry's hands while he went over to scold him. While he verbally crushed Seamus, Harry looked back at Hermione desperately. She mouthed _divvy-toe _to him again.

"_What?!"_ he hissed. She shot a glance in Snape's direction. When she was satisfied that he was distracted enough, she hissed back "_Diffindo!"_

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and quickly yanked on a loose bit of string in the box. When Snape came back, Harry felt a lot less scared than he did before.

"Potter first," he commanded. "By your apparent confidence, I predict that you'll be able to successfully cut the string exactly in half with the correct use of the severing charm."

Harry immediately pointed his wand at the string that Draco held outstretched between his fists. Draco wore the same smug expression that he'd worn at the moment he spoke badly of Harry's mother.

"_Diffindo!_" Harry growled. The string dropped to the ground in one piece. Draco staggered back, howling in pain as he clutched his nose. Harry watched in horror as Snape swooped in and wrenched Draco's hands from his face, revealing a deep cut all the way down his nose. Snape dropped Draco's hands.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor."

There was a communal gasp.

"WHAT?!" cried Ron from somewhere behind Harry, who couldn't tear his eyes away from Draco, who now had tears sliding down his cheeks.

"I said fifty points from Gryffindor," said Snape coldly. He turned to Harry. "I'll be sending an owl to your parents, Potter, explaining your vicious attack on a fellow student!"

"_Vicious attack_?!" exclaimed Ron, his voice getting impossibly higher with every syllable. "All he did was follow your instructions!"

"If you don't stop disrupting my class, Weasley, I'll make it a hundred points."

"Excuse me, Sir?" squeaked a voice from somewhere in the back of the room. They all turned and watched the crowd part. Lavender Brown stepped forward.

"I think what Ron is _trying _to say is that maybe it would be more suitable to punish Harry rather than the whole of Gryffindor..."

Snape glared at her. "Miss Brown, you failed to say a single word in my class last year and you decide to start participating by getting yourself involved in something that isn't your business-"

"Oh, but it is my business!" said Lavender calmly, and with a little smile. "I'm in Gryffindor! And I was merely suggesting that deducting so many points from Gryffindor would be a bad move, because my Mummy's on the board of governors, and _she _said that the chairman is considering a serious appraisal on the excessive deductions made to house points."

Everyone in the room stared at her with wide eyes and slack jaws. She gazed around at her silent audience and blushed. "It was only a suggestion..."

Harry was sure his glasses must've been dirty, because Snape's face almost flushed red with anger. He was visibly shaking.

"_Ten _points from Gryffindor," he seethed. "And your parents can still expect an owl by the end of the day, Potter. The rest of you, get into pairs and practice the severing charm until you can do it in your sleep."

Students tentatively stepped towards the small wooden box of string, which was now on the floor, and attempted to get on with practicing the spell as casually and inconspicuously as they could. For the rest of the lesson, Snape sat at his desk at the front with his hawk-eyes shifting in between Lavender and Harry.

oOo

"I'm _so _sorry, Ron!" Hermione cried, her face bright pink.

"Bloody humiliating, that was... _humiliating_!" grumbled Ron, his face still as pink as Hermione's.

Harry had been so bored of watching Neville fail to sever his piece of string during the pair-work that he'd observed Hermione casting her spell at Ron's string. Somehow, when she cast it, she did not cut the string but instead managed to sever Ron's belt. His trousers had fallen to his ankles.

They walked down the corridor, all of them visibly traumatised by the previous lesson. Ron was walking a little awkwardly, clutching the hem of his trousers to hold them up.

"Oh Merlin, I'm really sorry, Ron! I really didn't mean to-"

"S'alright," he said begrudgingly. "At least it distracted Snape from trying to laser Harry to death with his eyes..."

The three of them managed weak laughter. Ron was right. Snape _had _stopped glaring at Harry at that point, but only so he could shout at Hermione. Harry frowned at the memory.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" he asked. "He laid into you a fair bit."

Hermione frowned. She opened her mouth to speak

"Ron!" called a girly voice from behind them. The three of them spun round to see Lavender Brown skipping up the corridor towards them. She came to a halt in front of them.

"Ron, are you alright? You looked ever so embarrassed earlier, when..." she glanced down to his hands, which were still grasping the hem of his trousers. Ron blushed.

"Er, yeah... what about you? I heard that Pavarti severed your hair!" said Ron. Lavender sighed and brought both of her braids round to her shoulders. One of them almost reached down to her waist. The other hung down to her chest, which was oddly prominent for a twelve-year-old.

"I'll have to cut the other half of my hair. Gosh, how embarrassing! I hate this length of hair, it's so... undecided! I'm sure Hermione understands!" she smiled brightly at Hermione, who self-consciously tucked her frizzy hair behind her ears and blushed even pinker.

"Nah, your hair still looks nice!" said Ron, in a bizarrely convincing tone. Both Harry and Hermione slowly turned to give each other confused looks. Ron and Lavender were both still smiling to each other when someone else joined the conversation.

"Well, look who it is!" called Draco Malfoy as he sauntered towards them with Crabbe and Goyle waddling behind him. He had a huge plaster taped to his face. Ron snorted back a laugh.

"Dunno what you're sniggering at, Weasley!" grunted Crabbe. "Nice pants, by the way!" he and Goyle guffawed while Draco walked right up to Harry, as he often did when he was about to cut him deeply.

"No-one can deny your vicious pitbull nature now, Potter. Even Snape called you up on it."

Ron stepped forward with narrowed eyes and shoved Draco's shoulder. "Back off, Malfoy. Harry might make you cry again!"

Lavender giggled. Beside her, Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco scowled at Ron, but then seemed to change his mind. He glared back at Harry.

"My father will hear about this, and he won't be impressed. Especially not after your mother's repulsive behaviour in Flourish & Blotts."

"Watch what you say about my mother..." Harry warned.

Hermione stepped forward, scowling at Draco. "Leave Mrs Potter alone, Malfoy. None of us have forgotten the severing charm, you know."

Draco laughed at her. "D'you hear that, boys? Lily Potter's got herself a fan club!" he bent down so that he was right in Hermione's face. "I'm not surprised, really. You're both mudbl-"

Before Draco could even finish speaking, Harry and Ron had both charged forward towards him. Harry shook with blind anger. Before either of them had the opportunity to damage Draco's face any further, Crabbe and Goyle had formed a wall in front of him, blocking Harry and Ron from Draco with their burliness.

"You're both mental!" Draco shouted as he and his bodyguards backed down the corridor. "And I don't know why you're crying, Granger!"

Harry and Ron looked back. Lavender stood very awkwardly next to Hermione, who had tears falling freely down her cheeks.

"After all," began Draco again, this time from the other end of the corridor. "It's just a harmless little word, right? Isn't that what the almighty Lily Potter always says?"

Hermione spun round, whipping Lavender in the face with her hair as she marched off down the corridor. She did not look round, nor did she wait for her friends. A sob escaped her and echoed down the corridor as she turned the corner and disappeared.

"Oops!" giggled Lavender. "Clearly, Draco didn't get the owl about blood being a touchy subject!"

oOo

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed/favourited/followed so far. I do know where this story is going and I'm very excited for you all to read it. Please bear in mind that what I write here is from my own imagination. As much as I adore getting reviews, suggestions and CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, I would appreciate it if people put more than just "this is bad" in their reviews. Can't do much with that, really._

_See you next Sunday! The next chapter is entitled "Old Age"_

_Nel X_

_P.S: If you go to my profile, there is a link to my blog on Tumblr. Say hi! Follow for follow etc!_


	17. Muggle Magic

Harry was in his room on Christmas Day evening, scribbling four letters at once. One to Hermione, one to Ron, one to Neville and one to Molly Weasley, thanking them each for their presents. Little did he know, his father was outside his bedroom door glowing beetroot, gearing himself up for what would become a horrifyingly uncomfortable talk.

"Harry?" he called.

"Yeah?"

James slowly opened the door and gave his son the most sincere smile he could muster. "How's the letter-writing coming along?"

"Good, I think. It always helps when you're actually grateful for what you've got."

Harry cast a giddy glance at the enormous pile of sweets, chocolates and clothes from his friends and classmates at school.

"Wow... you lucky sod. You know, I remember swapping presents with my friends at Christmas. We were so bad at buying gifts that we bought each other joke presents. Remus bought me some pink fluffy slippers in sixth year. I bought him and Sirius some dog biscuits."

"Eurgh!"

"Indeed. But we had a laugh, and that's all that mattered."

Harry nodded a little awkwardly. It wasn't like his father to peddle any moral message in his anecdotes. That was Mum's job.

"Does Mum want help with dinner or something?" asked Harry, watching his Dad lingering by the window.

James gulped. "Actually, Harry, there was something I wanted to... erm, why don't you sit down?"

"I am sitting down."

"Right."

James went and sat on Harry's bed and rubbed his hands on his jeans. He gulped again.

"Dad?"

"Now don't get me wrong, Harry, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, but whether you like it or not, your mother and I need some piece of mind..."

Harry gave his father a blank stare and slowly twisted round in his chair. The squeak that filled the room almost made James burst out laughing.

"Harry, erm... you've made friends pretty easily since joining Hogwarts..."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Is this about Alice again? Don't worry! I'll be-"

"No, no, erm... this is about you... erm... you seem to have a fair few friends and erm... well, what I was wondering was... are any of them girls?"

"Well, yeah. Hermione, of course."

James gulped. "Yes... of course." He stayed silent for a long time.

"Dad, is there a point to this conversation?"

"Harry, we need to talk about girls!" James blurted out.

James had never known of such an impenetrable silence as this one.

"There's really no need," Harry said eventually, blushing scarlet.

"Oh," said James. "Well, we can talk about boys too if that's how you-"

"No, no, I mean... just... blimey, Dad, this is awkward!"

James rubbed his face in his hands. "I know, I know," he told his son. "But your mother's worried that you lot are growing up and there isn't anything we can do while you're at boarding school in the Highlands. She... _we_... want to know that you're all clued up on... well, puberty."

"_Dad!"_

"_Harry!_" James parroted, mocking Harry's wavering pre-pubescent voice. Harry blushed again.

"Spare the gory details, Dad. I know about all the... functions."

Both father and son cringed in unison, then chuckled. James was relieved that Harry wasn't as dramatic as he himself was. Harry wasn't kicking up the tantrum that James had thrown when his father had sat him down for a serious discussion.

"Alright, well... is there anything you're worried about? Anything you don't understand?"

Harry shuddered through the awkwardness and thought for a moment. He shrugged, but his father didn't seem to take that as an answer. Instead, he leant back against the wall next to Harry's bed and folded his arms.

"Alright, here's something..." began Harry. "My Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"... please don't tell me what I think you're about to tell me, Harry."

"He's picking on me."

"Oh, thank... sorry?" James asked, sitting up. His son looked a little unnerved by his father's expression. Slow-rising anger.

"He just... er, he picks on me. A bit. And Ron. And Hermione. And Neville."

"Snape? _Snape _is picking on you?" demanded James. Harry said no more. He watched James run a hand through his hair, glaring at the floor.

"Bloody bitter toe-rag..." mumbled James.

"You know him, then?" grinned Harry.

James looked up at his son, whose face looked as chubby and innocent as it did when he was a year old. His face immediately softened.

"You know, Harry..." began James. He knew Lily would berate this for him later, but right now, his son needed help. "I went to school with Professor Snape."

Harry's eyes widened. "But... he's ancient!"

James laughed. "Ha! Aged by boredom and loneliness, I'm afraid. But get this: we all used to call him Snivellus!"

Harry's mouth fell open for a split second before he began howling with laughter. James laughed too, in a refreshingly boyish way. He loved the fact that laughing with his son made him feel like a teenager again. Carefree, responsibility-free and worried about every little thing.

"_Snivellus?!_" parroted Harry, finally catching his breath. "What was he like?"

"A scrawny git, if I'm honest..." sighed James as his son laughed harder. "With very interesting taste in underpants..."

oOo

_Six Days Later. _

They were in for a good night.

James, Sirius, Lily and Isabelle had all noticed that Remus Lupin had added a spring in his step since meeting Tonks. He laughed more often: his sense of humour being even livelier than in his boyhood. He spent more time with Harry, Alice, Elsie and the twins without any signs of longing or despair. Today, he and Tonks had pitched up at The Potters' house without warning, declaring that there would be a new tradition: the marauders would take their families to the Devonshire moors and let off fireworks. It was a pulse of spontaneity that Remus was not famed for... but still, Lily and James liked the idea. So, the big group went on an hour-long walk up to the moors with a strangely excited Remus Lupin leading the way.

"This is nice," smiled Lily, slinking an arm around her husband's waist. In front of them, Remus and Tonks were charging up the hill. Behind them, Sirius was whispering things to Isabelle and making her laugh. Lagging behind were Harry, Alice, Elsie, Henry and Aida, all groaning and dragging their feet.

"It is nice," agreed James, giving her a quick kiss on the head. "But bloody cold. And I don't get what's gotten into Remus tonight. I love him like a brother, but even I'll admit that he's usually bloody miserable. What's he doing?"

Remus and Tonks were beaming at one another, jokingly arguing over who loved who the most.

"I'm going to be sick."

"Oh James, he's in love!"

"No... really?! D'you reckon?!"

She jabbed him in the ribs with her finger. He stumbled away, chuckling. He glanced back round at the children who were almost out of sight.

"Oi! You lot!" called James. "If you don't hurry up, we'll quite literally be on this hill until next year!"

"But it's so _steep_!" whined Henry, who was being pushed up the hill by an exhausted-looking Aida.

"Hey, Padfoot! You're daughter's being used as slave labour over there!" he said, pointing to the group of children. Sirius didn't glance back.

"Yeah, well, Henry's usually the one dealing with the constant demands from all three bossy women of the house!"

Isabelle, whose hand was in his, gasped and slapped his forearm. Elsie suddenly charged up the hill and leapt onto her father's back. He stumbled around before finding his balance. Elsie looked rather pleased with herself.

"Elsie's got the idea..." muttered Lily. She took a step backwards and then propelled herself onto her husband's back, throwing her arms and legs around his torso as her goddaughter had done.

"ARGH! Blimey, woman, you're heavy!"

"Shut up and walk!"

By the time the group reached the top of the hill, all their wheezing and panting was worth it. Darkness had fully descended and the moon was a safe, bright crescent that illuminated the whole of the moors. In the distance, the yellow twinkling lights of the rural muggle villages dotted the horizon. They had their own fireworks, exploding in the group's eye line in reds and greens and golds.

"Gather round, everyone!" said Lupin, stepping out in front of them all. "I have something I'd like to say."

"Oh bloody hell..." muttered James. Lily nudged him in the ribs again.

Remus cleared his throat as the children settled themselves. Harry and Alice sat close together on the ground, with Henry and Aida nearby. Elsie was still clutching her father's side.

"Well... I'd say it's been a relatively quiet year!" said Remus. People chuckled when he said it, but it was true. Aside from Lily's book being published and getting placed in a satisfactory place on the bestseller list, the year had been more or less peaceful. Lily wasn't sure how she felt about that...

"But," began Remus again. "I'd like to look to the future." He cast a nervous glance to Tonks, who crept up beside him and snaked an arm around his waist.

"Tonks and I are getting married!"

Isabelle and Elsie squealed. Sirius cheered. James was dumbfounded. Lily grinned stupidly. Harry and Alice stood up to congratulate them both while Henry and Aida pranced around the couple, chanting a funny little tune.

"_Finally,_" James sighed, hugging his wife closer to him.

Lily grinned into her husband's side. "I'm so relieved," she whispered. He rubbed her arm. He watched his children laughing and chatting and interacting with their friends in a nice moment of foreshadowing what was to come for Moony. James had never seen himself as a maternal figure until he was married to the woman he loved. He hadn't realised that marriage was not a finish line. It was just a check point, and two lovers could explore any dimensions of love that they wanted to. James was proud to admit that he'd held it together when his children had been born, but remembering the sense of completion that he'd felt when Harry was born and again when Alice was born, he choked up to this day.

"Okay, okay!" called Tonks. "Listen up!"

The twins kept running around and chanting.

"Oi, shut up and listen!" Tonks yelled.

James grinned. She'd fit in just fine here...

"It's 1997 in _thirteen... twelve..."_

All over the hill, the clusters of marauders' families had their last conversations of that year.

"Sirius, did you tell them?"

"Not yet, my love. I don't think now's the right time for anguish, do you?"

_Eleven, ten..._

"Harry, I'm still scared."

"Of what? There's nothing to be scared of. I'll be there."

_Nine, eight..._

"Next time we're forced to climb a mountain, Henry, _you're _pushing _me _up it."

"You're joking, right? Next time I even _see_ a mountain, I'm chopping my own legs off."

_Seven, six..._

"Here it comes, then: married life!"

"I love you, Remus. And I can't bloody wait to be married."

_Five, four..._

"Darling, I don't like this. This time next year, none of our babies will be at home anymore..."

"Lily, we haven't had babies in our house for a long time."

_Three... two... one._

Colours exploded from the wands of the adults, completely eclipsing the meagre fireworks of the muggles in the villages below. It didn't matter to any of the friends congregated on the hill, who were cheering and embracing. They were all together in a new year of drama, promise and love. Lily knew this already, but now everyone understood: when muggles spoke of magic, this was what they meant.

oOo

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who's favourited/followed/reviewed so far. Feel free to leave a review, just don't be hurtful. I've had to delete a guest review that was just plain rude, and could offend a lot of people. Keep it clean._

_Follow me on Tumblr- the link is on my profile page._

_See you next Sunday!_

_Nel X_


	18. Bitter Tank

Weeks turned into months. The dead forests in the Highlands shook out their frost and their buds bloomed. The sounds of rushing streams and waterfalls returned and the white sunlight was flecked with gold. Their dragons' breath dissolved and extra blankets were stuffed into the backs of wardrobes. The stone castle was still an ice box, as it often was even in the summer, but the pupils' noses thawed out. Girls were filling out. Ron and Harry had both noticed that almost every girl in their year had been fiddling with something on their shoulders. They'd spent a long lunchtime asking Hermione about this, as she'd been doing it too. As soon as she uttered the word "bras", the trio parted ways and did not say another word to each other for the rest of the day.

Harry's voice was the centre of all jokes in his dormitory. He sounded as though he had a pygmy puff stuck in his throat half the time. As for Ron, his growth spurt was so sudden and so dramatic that the boys were sure someone had jinxed him. The leather jacket from Mrs Potter that he'd worn nearly every weekend since last Christmas was now far too short. He couldn't bend his elbows and the arms did not even reach his wrists. He was forced to hang it up for good.

Things were changing at Hogwarts. It was as though someone had cast a spell on the entire school, like the slumber spell in _Sleeping Beauty. _Since his talk with his father, Harry was now noticing every change in the people around him. To Harry's surprise, even Ron noticed that Hermione was blowing hot and cold these days. Some days, she'd be her usual bossy, anxious self. Other days, she was a dragon. Breathing fire down their necks at the smallest jokes, snapping at them constantly, eating constantly and once or twice, even crying. She cried once when Ron commented on how much she'd eaten that week. The second time, she cried when she dropped her books. She was mental. Then again, The Patil twins and Lavender Brown were just the same, as were lots of other girls.

Perhaps the biggest change in behaviour around the school was Professor Snape. Since their lesson on the Severing charm before Christmas, he seemed to have a permanent migraine. He kept rubbing his forehead. He didn't shout. He muttered. He set very little homework and sometimes did not even turn up to the lesson. Ron and Harry preferred those rare occasions, but Hermione did not. The Potions Master, Professor Slughorn, took over those lessons and was about as much help as a Hippogriff in a chinaware shop. Harry might've worried about Snape had he not been a complete toss-pot.

One day in April, Snape's curse seemed to be lifted.

"Practical lesson," said Snape upon entering the classroom. Everyone jumped at the volume of his voice. He had not droned. Rather, his orders held conviction. He was ten minutes late and was accompanied by a nervous-looking Professor Flitwick. Ron shot Harry a wary glance.

"Professor Flitwick will be helping me to demonstrate the correct use of the Disarming charm."

Snape sauntered up to the platform at the front of the classroom and turned to face them, his cloak swishing and smothering Flitwick as he did so. He seemed almost alive today.

"Someone tell me what they know of the Disarming charm." His eyes scanned the room. "Longbottom."

Harry looked at Neville from across the row of desks. Neville lifted his head up slowly and gulped. "It... disarms... people?"

Ron sniggered. At the back of the room, Draco Malfoy clapped and more people giggled. Snape stared at Neville, motionless for several seconds. "Anyone else?"

Hermione's hand shot up. "Sir, if used correctly the Disarming charm will cause an opponent's wand to fly out of their hand. If necessary, and with the appropriate strength, the spell can knock an opponent backwards."

Snape did not look at her. He didn't even flinch when she spoke.

"...anyone else?"

"But Sir, I just gave you the answer," said Hermione plainly. Some people gasped. Others, including Ron, looked as though they wanted the ground to swallow them up.

"I could be mistaken, but I'm quite sure that I was accurate. It was a fairly easy question."

Harry and Ron exchanged a bewildered glance. It was so uncharacteristic of Hermione to contradict a teacher. But then again, there was nothing she hated more than being proved wrong... and Snape was a rather intolerable man himself.

Snape still persevered in staring blankly at the back wall, ignoring her completely.

"You know," Harry whispered to Ron. "Dad told me about Snape's nickname at school."

Ron was too uncomfortable to speak, but appeared anticipant anyway.

"_Snivellus..."_

As soon as he'd said it, he knew Snape had heard him. The students in the row behind Harry had giggled. The room had been too quiet for it not to carry.

Snape slowly rotated on the spot until he was facing Hermione, who gulped.

"_Severus_..." whispered Flitwick from several feet away. "_Are you quite well?" _Snape did not appear to listen.

"I ignored your answer, Miss Granger, because I hold no tolerance for students who speak out of turn. You may pride yourself on your abilities to worm your way into the affections of the other teachers by sweating over your school books day and night, but your whiny attempts at gaining favouritism from me will not work."

You could hear a pin drop. Not even Harry or Ron, who'd both grown oddly protective of Hermione these past two years, could only sit there with gaping mouths.

"Professor Snape!"Flitwick squeaked loudly. "Perhaps we should proceed with demonstrating the Disarming Charm!"

"Excellent idea, Professor," said Snape. "Seeing as Miss Granger seems to know more about the Disarming Charm that you do, Flitwick, perhaps it would be prudent if _she _come up and assist me in my demonstration."

Harry felt a rush of toxic potion course through his veins as Hermione stood up, trembling a little. She gingerly made her way to the platform at the front of the classroom, wand held out in front of her.

"Now, class," began Snape. His casual tone unnerved Harry immensely. His usual cold droning was almost lost entirely... "The incantation for the Disarming Charm is '_expelliarmus'_. You say it while pointing your wand at the target like so."

The room froze as Snape pointed his wand at Hermione, who now resembled a deer in the headlights. Ron gasped beside Harry.

"_Expelliarmus,"_ said Snape clearly, and Hermione wand shot out of her hand. Everyone jumped as the spell hit.

"Very good, Miss Granger. Well done. How clever. Now, go and retrieve your wand. We're not quite finished with our demonstration yet."

Harry noticed his own shaky breathing and clammy hands. He couldn't imagine what Hermione must've been feeling. Petrified, presumably. And very, very regretful.

"That was how you successfully disarm your opponent," continued Snape once Hermione had resumed her position. "You must remember to point your wand at your target. If you don't, _this _could happen."

"NO!" roared Harry and Ron together, leaping to their feet.

_"EXPELLIARMUS!_" exclaimed Snape, pointing his wand directly at Hermione. A jet of red light hit her squarely in the chest and sent her flying backwards, where she hit the stone wall several feet behind her. She slumped to the ground.

Harry, Ron, Flitwick and Neville ran to her aid while other students craned their necks for a better look or cowered in their seats. Hermione was conscious and whimpering.

"Miss Granger?! Are you hurt?!" asked Flitwick.

"My head!" she squeaked. Flitwick reached around to the back of her head. When he pulled his hand away, it was smeared with blood.

"Look what you've done!" yelled Flitwick at Snape, who looked more stony and pale than he'd ever been. "Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, fetch Madam Pomfrey. Mr Thomas, Miss Brown, fetch Professor Dumbledore."

Harry shook with so many emotions. Worry for Hermione, fear of being in the same room as Snape and dread for what Dumbledore was going to say when he saw the state of a second year pupil after being on the receiving end of Snape's wand.

oOo

The day dragged on and on after that. If something less traumatising had happened, Harry and Ron might've been delighted to be exempt from lessons. However, their day became an exhausting timeline of worry and boredom. Hermione was given skele-gro and sleeping draught so that she could sleep through the recuperation of her fractured skull. They faced other brief moments of panic throughout the day. Dumbledore asked to extract their memories of the lesson. It took them roughly ten minutes to convince Ron to comply, promising that not _every _memory would be seen. Hermione had very few visitors: the Weasley twins, Ginny, Dean, Seamus and Neville twice, each with their own version of virally-spreading rumours. It was the evening that Ron and Harry were dreading more than anything else.

Darkness descended, as per usual in the Scottish Highlands, rather quickly. A skittish first year was sent to collect Harry and Ron and deliver them to Dumbledore's office, where they found their parents, Mr & Mrs Granger, and Cornelius Fudge arranged in a semi-circle around Dumbledore's desk. Harry gulped.

"Hello Harry," said his Mum weakly, looking tired and worn. His father stood with his arm round her shoulders, looking grave. Ron's mother seized him into a hug as soon as he was in the room. Alice was there too, hiding behind James and peering curiously round the room.

"Good evening Harry, Ron," smiled Dumbledore, closing the office door behind them and striding up to the congregation of adults. "I've explained to your parents exactly what happened earlier. Unfortunately for you, Harry, I was forced under school policy to show your memory to your mother in the pensieve."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. He looked round at the silent adults.

"So?"

He saw his mother glance disapprovingly at his solemn father, and after a few minutes made the connection.

"Are you angry at me?" Harry asked quietly.

His mother closed her eyes. "No, I'm not angry at you, darling. I just... wish you hadn't said it."

Harry bowed his head. There was nothing worse than feeling genuinely guilty, and then being deprived of a scolding from your mother. It was as though he'd defeated her, and that was a horrid feeling.

The door to Dumbledore's office opened and Mr Granger audibly growled.

Harry and Ron spun round to find Professor Snape standing at the door with an alarmingly grey pallor.

"You've got some nerve, showing your face in here!" James snarled. Snape swallowed thickly and avoided his gaze.

"I invited him here this evening, James," explained Dumbledore. "Let's not cause any more conflict today. I think we've had enough of that, considering the company we are in at this moment."

James reached behind him to stroke his daughter's hair. She had cowered away from the potential gaze of the teacher she'd heard so much about.

"You asked to see me, Headmaster," said Snape slowly. Dumbledore nodded, looking down at the floor. Then, Cornelius Fudge stepped forward and clasped his hands together. He resembled a Shakespearian Actor in his gearing up for a speech.

"I don't want to have to do this to you, Severus. Particularly not in front of such a large audience," Fudge gestured to the glaring adults and three children in the room. "But I think these good people have a right to bear witness to justice being instilled when it comes to the safety of their children. Given the circumstances, I don't see as though you're in any position to contradict me."

"of course not, Minister."

Harry shuffled closer to Ron. He'd heard the rumours, but had no idea what was coming.

"Severus, I have no choice but to officially suspend you from your teaching post for a minimum of twelve months."

Blood began to pound in Harry's ears. He didn't know what to feel. They would be free of Snape for a whole year. But this man, who'd already began to crumble, was now going to ruin. He'd come back a different person. Maybe he wouldn't come back at all. The idea filled him with both elation and crushing guilt.

"That is your conclusion?" asked Snape after a painfully long silence.

Fudge's eyes bulged. "Of course it's my bloody conclusion!"

"Cornelius," muttered Dumbledore, shooting glances at the two boys.

Fudge exhaled loudly. "Severus, it is generous of me to permit you to return to Hogwarts at all. Your actions were... were..."

"Despicable," Mr Granger finished for him. Everyone turned to look at him. He bore an uncanny resemblance to a provoked pit-bull. Nothing like the quivering antelope he usually was.

"I understand," said Snape coolly.

"_Do you_?!" Mr Granger spat. He swooped towards Snape until they were practically nose-to-nose. "That was my little girl that you attacked. I may not understand magic, or sorcery, or potions, or flying, or anything of the sort, but you and I are both human. There are evil people in both of our worlds and you, Sir, are a disgrace!"

Silence. The room stared at him as though he were an atomic bomb. He blushed as he slowly backed away from him and exited the room through the door, which he slammed behind him.

"Have you nothing to say?" Fudge asked Snape when nobody spoke.

Snape did not look worried or remotely moved. He merely looked tired. "My actions were... regrettable," he droned, eliciting a snort from James. "... and I shall leave obligingly. I suppose... that it would be in poor taste for me to say that I was provoked-"

"You wretched man!" bellowed James, stepping forward. Lily grabbed his arm. It was then that Harry noticed his mother was crying.

"We will not dismiss your claims, Severus," said Dumbledore, who had remained quiet from behind his desk all this time. "I will be sorry to see you go. I know you will return in a year as a changed man."

Dumbledore received astonished looks from all the parents except for Lily, whose watery eyes were fixed on Snape's.

"I do not doubt that, Headmaster," said Snape. He turned quickly and opened the office door. Before he left, he turned back and glanced inexplicably at Lily, who looked ready to run after him. He left before anyone else could speak.

"Well, I daresay _that _was an insight!" said Mr Weasley, speaking for the first time. Nobody paid him much attention.

"Mum..." whispered Harry, sidling up to her. She looked at him sadly and put an arm round him.

"Mum, I'm really sorry."

"It's alright, darling. This is just... one of those things."

"_Excuse me?"_ gasped Jean Granger, silencing the murmured conversations that had bubbled momentarily between groups. She looked a little older than before and slightly less glamorous. She was not wrapped in furs or sparking with jewels. She still managed to eclipse the other women in the room with her model-perfect physique. "What did you just say?"

It was not that Lily's unprecedented quick-wit failed her, it was merely that Lily could not be bothered to argue with this woman. Her eyelids drooped.

"One of those things, is it? Just another daily occurrence? My daughter was attacked by a teacher, Mrs Potter!"

"I know, I know, I was just saying-"

"Such things might happen frequently in your world, Mrs Potter, but they are a serious offence in mine. If my daughter is in danger here at the school, I have half a mind to-"

"Oh, give it a rest!" Lily said suddenly. James looked extremely uncomfortable with an arm still around his wife. Alice shuffled away from him towards Mrs Weasley, who was watching with deep curiosity.

"I beg your pardon?!" Mrs Granger hissed.

"You couldn't give a flying toss about your daughter! If you did, you'd be on your way back to the hospital wing by now!"

Harry backed away from his mother as Mrs Granger turned a nasty shade of purple.

"You have no idea what it's like to find out that you're daughter's a..."

Lily started to visibly shake.

"...and _you,_" said Jean, pointing at a startled Cornelius Fudge. "was it _your_ genius idea to ban muggles from entering Diagon Alley?!"

The room gasped.

"What is she talking about, Minister?" demanded Lily.

"This morning..." continued Jean. "when we found out about the attack, my husband _tried _to get to Diagon Alley to buy some... I don't know, some magic potion for her wounds. And low and behold, what does he find? A notice, decreeing the prohibition of muggles in public places of wizarding property."

_"No..._" gasped Mr Weasley, a hand pressed theatrically to his chest.

Fudge stepped down from the raised platform towards Jean. "The Ministry is a democracy, Mrs Granger. One of my heads of department put the suggestion to vote and it was almost unanimous. I'm sorry, but that's just the way things are."

Jean swiftly spun round and made her way towards the door. Before she left, she glared furiously at the group. "You people are prejudice and cruel. Like my husband said, we are all human!"

"Indeed..." mused Fudge. "You forget that the reason our people are so few in number is because muggles burned us in our thousands years ago. And now, we are talked of only in horror stories or children's jokes. You have the nerve to call _us _prejudice, when you shun us from your society and then deny our existence."

Jean stormed out, slamming the door behind her. She left behind a thick, settling feeling of ominous change. Gone was the ministry's strong stand on muggle-wizard integration. Fudge had spoken of them as though they were feral, dangerous tribes. It made Harry shiver.

"So Snape comes back when we're in fourth year," whispered Ron to Harry. "We'll be taller than him by then. Stronger, like. We could take him. Any trouble, we'll just deck him. I ain't scared of him."

Harry was barely conscious of Ron's ramble, though later he did acknowledge the advantages they'd have over Snape upon his return. The group would depart with lots to contemplate. Their own behaviour for one thing, the unnerving changes in treatment of muggles by Fudge for another, and finally the potential damage this unfortunate episode might make to Snape.

oOo

_A/N: I didn't mean for this to be so long. But.. oh well._

_ Go to my profile page & follow the link to my tumblr. Also follow me on twitter, at 7Nellark7 - it's a new account with updates and stuff. _

_Thanks to all you followers/favouriteaurs/ reviewers. Means a lot. Will update shortly,_

_Nel X_


	19. The Young Ones

The sorest sight Harry had seen all year was Hermione's expression as she gazed longingly at the congregation of Weasleys and Potters from the other end of platform 9 3/4. Her father waved at Harry just as glumly when he spotted him through the bustling families. Jean Granger seemed eager to get her daughter's attention. She eventually succeeded.

"I don't like her," grumbled Ron.

"Who?"

"Hermione's Mum. She's a mental woman."

"Mmm..."

"Then again, it must suck to be a muggle now. D'you hear what Fudge said about muggles in public wizarding places?"

"Yeah," Harry replied vaguely.

"Hermione'll have to shop in muggle bookshops from now on..."

"Doubt it," sighed Harry, finally snapping back into the present. "Mum seems happy to wait on her hand and foot. She practically spent the whole of Summer shopping for stuff for Hermione. And Alice, of course..."

Harry and Ron glanced down at the buzzing little black-haired girl nearby. To Harry's mortification, she was already wearing her Hogwarts robes. She stared up at the dormant Hogwarts Express in awe, while Elsie Black clutched her hand and looked solemn. Sirius Black looked delighted to finally be included in the annual Hogwarts haul send-off. He beamed with pride while his exhausted wife scrambled around the platform trying to control Henry and Aida, who were diving in and out people's legs pretending to curse each other with toy wands.

"Has your sister fallen on her head or something recently?" asked Ron.

"Er- no?" Harry peered at the top of his sister's head.

"I thought she was terrified of starting Hogwarts..."

Harry rolled his eyes. "She was. Then Snape got suspended."

"Ohhh!"

"Exactly."

The Hogwarts Express whistle blew, and steam rose and clouded over the platform. Mothers erupted into last-minute reminders and quick goodbyes. Animal cages and trunks got flung onto the train, including Hedwig and Alice's raven, Morgana.

"Daddy?" asked Henry. "Will they sort Alice into Ravenclaw because she has a raven?"

Sirius patted his son on the head. "I sincerely doubt that the century-old magical historical artifact would start sorting first years on account of their choice of pet, Henry."

"Be a good girl, darling!" Lily whimpered, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. "Harry'll look after you, won't you?"

"Yes, Mum. Promise."

"And there's Hermione, and Ginny, you know, if..."c

"Lily..." warned James with a smirk. Lily reluctantly let her daughter go and took a deep breath. Beside her, Isabelle Black was whispering last minute re-assurances to Elsie, who looked almost as petrified as Alice had once been.

"If anyone's in danger of being sorted into Ravenclaw, it's her," murmured Harry to Ron, nodding in Elsie's direction. "Isabelle was in Ravenclaw. And her brother. And her Mum."

"Ouch..." Ron muttered back. Harry raised his eyebrows in agreement. He'd be in for a tough year if Alice was separated from her closest friend.

Harry hugged his parents and yawned through his mother's 100th pledge for him to be a good brother to Alice. When all their belongings were safely piled into the luggage compartments and Ron had wrestled free of his mothers boa-constrictor embrace, they hopped on to the train.

"Where do we sit? Where do we sit?" Alice beamed, racing off down the narrow passageway. Harry shot Ron an anxious glance before they tugged Ginny and Elsie down the aisle after her.

"Oh look!" gasped Alice, tugging a compartment open. She'd found Neville, who had become lanky and greasy over summer. He was sitting with a wistful-looking Luna Lovegood, whose head was buried in a copy of The Quibbler.

"Oh, give me strength..." Ron groaned, filing in to the compartment after Harry. The two current occupants of the compartment greeted them with smiled. Neville looked relieved to see them.

"Hey, guys. Good summers?"

"The best!" grinned Alice as Harry gently crammed her against Neville to accomodate everyone in the compartment. "Althought it was far too slow. I'm so relieved we're finally leaving!"

Luna lowered her Quibbler and smiled at Alice. Harry cringed.

"Did you know, Alice, that people who spend their lives being impatient are twice as likely to die quicker?"

The whistle blew again. The compartment was already a little uncomfortable with seven occupants, but Luna's comment made Harry feel downright claustrophobic. Alice stared blankly at Luna. Elsie, who had never encountered a Lovegood before, looked horrified.

The train lurched.

"We're off!" cheered Ginny, standing up and leaning over Ron to wave goodbye. All the others followed suit. They mashed themselves up against the window, waving blindly at the crowds before they spotted their loved ones: two ginger women pushed through the crowds to wave goodbye to their sons and daughters. Lily Potter and Molly Weasley could almost pass as sisters. Sirius, James, Isabelle, Henry and Aida grew smaller and smaller until they were lost in the crowds. As the train sped up, Lily and Molly surrendered and stood helplessly on the edge of the platform.

"I feel sorry for Mum," said Harry. "No more kids at home."

"Ah, she'll get over it," shrugged Ron, collapsing back into his seat. "Didn't take Mum long and she'd been raising kids for nearly thirty years!"

"Ron, she was a wreck," said Ginny seriously.

"Shut up."

Alice looked a little upset for the first time since before Snape's dismissal. Their Summer had been a happy one: they'd discovered a small stream a few miles from the edge of their village where Harry demonstrated some of his more impressive spells away from the watchful eye of his mother, Alice had baked the most impressive four-tiered cake for Harry's thirteenth birthday and they'd attended Remus and Tonks' wedding. It had been a little awkward at first, with a huge contrast in family sizes between the bride and groom and the bridesmaids Alice, Elsie and Aida dressed in gowns designed to shimmer like the moon. They'd laughed when Tonks' wedding dress had got hitched and revealed that she was wearing clunky ankle boots instead of heels. It had been a summer to remember, and Harry was almost glad that her slight sadness was noticeable to him.

Hermione found them three minutes into the journey. She silently slid into their compartment where there was realistically no room. She'd been crying.

"I can stand," she mumbled.

"Rubbish," said Harry. "Sit between me and Ron. Alice, just sit on my lap."

Alice scrambled onto her brother's lap while Hermione climbed over their legs.

"'Mione?" asked Ron quietly. "What's wrong?"

Hermione slumped into the vacant seat and inhaled deeply. "I'm having a hard time at home."

"Oh," said Ron, hardly sounding convincing. Harry felt uncomfortable after having spent many hours over summer talking with his own parents about Hermione's family in unnecesarily hushed voices. It didn't seem the right thing for a friend to have done. Ron seemed to pick up on this too.

"You wanna talk about it?" asked Ron, a little awkwardly.

Hermione shook her head. "Maybe later."

They experienced their first melancholic start to the year during that train journey, with Hermione's upset and Elsie's anxiety. For most of the time, they sat in silence. Alice tried in vain to soothe her friend, and Luna dipped in and out of conversation with the group via sudden pointless quips of probably-false facts and whimsical insights. There was a brief comic moment shared when Hemione fell asleep on Ron's shoulder, instilling the fear of life in him. He sat there with a terrified expression on his face until he was rocked to sleep too. His snores were loud and hilarious. This woke Hermione, and she grumbled at him for the rest of the journey.

"Alice," began Harry as they stepped off the train once they'd arrived. He'd had to grab her wrist. She was bouncing around too much. "Alice, listen to me."

Alice rolled her eyes. "I know, Harry. _Be careful_. I'm fine. I'm not scared anymore."

Harry twisted her round and put his hands on his shoulders. "You and Elsie have to go with Hagrid. He'll be here in a minute."

Alice's excitement faltered a little. She glanced around her, looking for the giant man she'd heard so much about. "Why? Why can't I go with you?"

"First years always go in the boats. Dunno why, just always happens. You'll all go into the hall together and then you'll be sorted."

Alice swallowed. "Okay... I'll just... wait here for Hagrid, then."

Harry hugged her. "Love you, Birdy, you barmy child."

Alice giggled. "You haven't called me that in ages."

Harry shrugged. "Haven't had the chance to, have I? Now you're my baby sister again."

At his words, Alice threw her arms around her brother again. Harry felt an odd feeling of loss. This hug would mark the last moment of absolute privacy he shared with his sister. Now, she would no longer be his home-calling. Their close bond would be public to the school and all its students. They'd cross each other in the hall. He'd worry about her constantly. Their relationship would undoubtedly face a little turbulence at some point from here on out.

Alice pulled Elsie towards her and said a quick goodbye to Ron, Neville, Hermione, Ginny and Luna before they walked off to the carriages. When Harry looked back at the platform, Alice really did resemble the curious little toddler he remembered, standing hand-in-hand with Elsie as they had been doing since before they could talk.

The Great Hall was glowing by the time Harry and his friends reached it. It was humming with the gleeful reunions of friends and the holiday stories and first term dreads. The floating candles caked the room in its usual golden christmassy light that Harry was happy to return to. Harry took his place at the Gryffindor table and suddenly shuddered with nerves on behalf of his sister.

"I need to tell you something," said Hermione suddenly, before the humdrum died down for the first years. "I don't really know what to make of it, but... I think it's important."

Harry and Ron leaned closer towards her.

"Mum keeps threatening to move abroad."

The doors to the great hall swung open and the middle aisle was flooded with trembling children in crisp new Hogwarts robes.

"What?!" hissed Ron.

"She's not serious about it. Well, she is, but... she won't really."

"Then why the bloody hell are you telling us this?"

The first years trickled past the trio, gawping round at the older students and the enchanted ceiling. Harry spotted Alice in the very middle of the cluster, still clutching Elsie's hand.

"Hermione, can we talk about this later?" Harry whispered, keeping his eyes trained on Alice.

"Of course, Harry, sorry."

"Screw Harry! Where are you moving to?!"

The first years filled out around the bottom step of the teachers' platform at the front. Harry acknowledged Snape's abscence with vague remorse.

"Nowhere! I'm not going with her! She's probably not going anywhere at all!"

"Then what's all this about?!"

Dumbledore rounded the teachers' table at the front and took his place at the front of the podium. Harry barely listened to Dumbledore's speech. He was eyeing up the rest of the first years, seeing which ones would likely be trouble.

"What I am saying, Ronald, is that there is the tiniest chance that she _does _go. If she does, and my father goes with her, then..."

"What, so you want to stay with me? Is that it?"

"Actually, erm... I was hoping... Harry?"

Harry tore his gaze from Alice, making note of her position in the crowd. "Huh?"

Hermione swallowed. "If needs must, could I... do you... have a spare bedroom at your house?"

Harry did not answer. His mind was currently torn in half. Ron sat wide-eyed and dumb-founded next to Hermione.

"Harry? Would your mother allow it? I really don't want to move to Monaco..."

"Monaco?!" squeaked Ron. "Isn't that in Africa?"

"...No, Ronald."

"_Shut up!_" hissed Harry as Dumbledore took his seat. Professor McGonagall stepped up to the podium and unraveled a long scroll.

"When I call your name, you will come forward and I will place the Sorting Hat on your head. Aikens, Annie!"

Small clusters of people on the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables stirred. Annie Aikens, the girl with an unfortunate mix of houses in her family, stepped up to the podium and sat down on the seat beside it. She seemed relatively calm. Harry prayed for Alice's sake that Annie Aikens was placed with either her Slytherin sister or her Hufflepuff brother, or else Alice would panic.

"GRYFFINDOR!" roared the Sorting Hat. Harry half-heartedly clapped with the rest of his house as the ginger-haired girl skipped merrily over to their table. He noted that Alice did not seem phased. Elsie, on the other hand, looked petrified.

"Black, Elsie!"

Harry, Ron and Hermione leaned outwards to get a better look. Their fair-haired girl was noticeably trembling as she took her place on the stall. Please be in Gryffindor, Please be in Gryffindor... if she ended up in Ravenclaw, there was a chance Alice might bolt from the room.

"SLYTHERIN!"

WHAT?!

Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged alarmed expressions. As Elsie slid from the stool and gingerly made her way towards the applauding Slytherin table, Harry noticed that she resembled a criminal on their way to the gallows. He scanned the crowd for Alice. He could only see the back of her head. He gulped and let out a shaky breath.

"Bogtrot, Hazel!"

All houses let out a snigger at the girl's unfortunate name. She was puny, sickly and wore thick-framed glasses.

"RAVENCLAW!"

She joined her house.

"Bogtrot, Helen!"

Hazel's twin. There had not been a set of twins at Hogwarts since Fred and George. This girl, however, did not look as gangly as her sister.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Even Harry clapped at that outcome. Thank goodness they hadn't been separated.

"Carlow, Jasper!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Chalk, Edward!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Chilcott, Kit!"

An ill-looking girl with dark hair yawned as she flopped down into the stool.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry glanced over to Elsie, who offered the new Slytherin girl a sad smile. She was surrounded by older girls. Harry was sure that their cattiness was only evident in the green of their uniforms. He was wary of them none-the-less. Several more children were sorted.

"Fogget, Raymond!"

a wild-haired blonde boy bounded up the steps to the stool and hopped on. He grinned devilishly, rubbing his hands in glee. Harry cringed at his over-confidence.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry and Ron groaned in unison. He looked to be the most irritating child alive.

"Gray, Albert!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Jones, Edwin!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Lestrange... erm, Lestrange, Druella."

Alarm bells rang. Everyone in the room seemed to tense. Even the teachers looked uncomfortable.

A tall, slender girl with pasty-white skin, hair as black as Alice's and blood-red lips ambled up to the stool. Her face speared Harry with dread. She even looked as though she were made of ice.

"How the bloody hell did that happen?" scoffed Ron. "I thought all the Lestrange's were dead!"

"Not dead, just lost," said Hermione darkly. "She's Lucius Malfoy's ward. The Lestrange's daughter?"

"Shhh..." warned Dean Thomas from a few seats away. Beside him, Neville had gone deathly white. He watched the hat being placed on the evil girl's head.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Sorting Hat roared.

The girl's cold expression did not change. She sauntered down towards the Slytherin table, where Elsie looked ready to cry.

"So... hang on a minute... what happened to the Lestranges?" spluttered Harry, turning back to his friends. "

"They ran off," explained Hermione. "They went into hiding when Voldemort's body was found. I assume they did what everyone else did and took on false identities. I guess... I guess they got on with their lives..." Hermione looked almost looking pained. "Nobody knows what happened to them afterwards, because they were never found. Maybe they're dead now. She lives with The Malfoy's, or so I've heard."

"Where d'you hear that from, then, Witch Weekly?"

"No," Hermione grumbled. "She came on the train with The Malfoy brothers. People were whispering about them in the compartment I was in before I found you lot."

"Lyon, Aurelia!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Malfoy, Miles!"

The trio went back to craning their necks for better views. A tall, fair haired boy walked slowly up to the stool and sat down. He looked much more nervous than Harry remembered Draco ever being. He was very pale and bony.

"Blimey, he looks rough..." murmured Ron, eliciting a nudge in the ribs from Hermione.

McGonagall placed the hat on the terrified boy's head.

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Whoa, what?!" hissed Ron. People around them were giving similar remarks. The boy's eyes widened. He looked practically green as he shuffled over to the Ravenclaws, who were all clapping nervously. Over at the Slytherin table, Draco was standing up, glowering at his brother.

"Malfoy looks ready to set fire to the Sorting hat..." noted Harry.

"He certainly doesn't look happy," Hermione agreed with a sigh.

"Be fair, he's got his creepy cousin to keep him company! That other little Malfoy squit hasn't got anyone!" argued Ron.

"I'm sure Luna will take him under her wing," Hermione responded dryly.

"O'Brien, Douglas!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Peck, Ophelia!"

Harry tensed. Potter soon...

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The pretty blonde girl grinned and skipped over to his table.

"Pesh, Nancy!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Potter, Alice!"

Harry's heart faltered. In his peripheral, he saw Ron and Hermione glance briefly at him before focusing solely on Alice, who remained composed as the Sorting hat was placed on her head. Immediately, she spotted her brother in the crowd. She smiled pleasantly at him, letting him know she was alright.

"RAVENCLAW!"

oOoOoOo

_A/N: I know, I know. Horrible. Nel is a bad girl._

_Leave a review if you so wish. I daresay there are a few plot points in here which are controversial. Let me know what you think, but please do not send me death threats. The story is called "Alternative" remember? As in: NOT THE BOOKS. I am mercifully sticking to all cannon pairings. Don't like it, don't read it. Simples._

_Merry December, _

_Nel. _

_P.S: If I'm coming across as standoffish, it's because my Mum's gone into labour and am therefore preoccupied. Sorryyyyy! _

_P.P.S: Go to my profile page where you'll find a link to my Tumblr. _


	20. Changes

Exactly one hour had passed since the Sorting and Alice Potter was inconsolable.

"I can't be in Ravenclaw... I can't be in Ravenclaw!" she squeaked.

"Oh Alice, don't cry," soothed Hermione, crouching down beside her and stroking her arm. "If the Sorting Hat's placed you in Ravenclaw, it's bound to be the best house for you. You won't be saying all of this in a week's time, I promise!"

"I don't know anybody in Ravenclaw! Who do we know who's in Ravenclaw?!" she shouted through her childlike tears.

"Luna Lovegood?" Ron offered, causing her to cry even harder.

Alice was sat in Dumbledore's office with Harry, Ron and Hermione after having refused to follow the Ravenclaw prefects to the dormitory. Dumbledore had kindly allowed for her to catch her breath in his office away from her new peers, but Harry sensed that he was not going to bend the rules for a scared little first year.

Alice glared at the Sorting Hat, which was perched on the top of the potions cabinet where it had been gathering dust all year. hats had minds, I bet you could change yours and put me somewhere else!" she shouted from her chair. Harry put his hand on her shoulder warningly. I told you before, you do not belong in Gryffindor," it told her wearily. e's eyes narrowed. "What about Slytherin?"

Ron and Hermione shot each other an uncomfortable look as Harry stared down at his sister in alarm. He'd always thought Alice would rather be separated from Elsie than be with the rest of that retched house.

"Miss Potter..." began Dumbledore from the back of his office. He'd been standing there silently since he'd sat her down. "Miss Potter, many students are surprised by their assigned House. Some have no relations in the wizarding world at all, let alone Hogwarts School. There is no shame in being scared or shy."

Alice pouted but said nothing.

"Here," Dumbledore opened the drawer on his right side and pulled out a small string-drawn bag. "I assume from your mother's infuence you're familiar with muggle confectionary. These are pear drops. They're not a favourite of mine, but I hear they're quite the fashion among muggle youths."

"I'm not a muggle," said Alice defiantly.

"Regardless, you might want to offer some to your Ravenclaw peers."

Another tear escaped Alice's eye.

"It would be a start," he smiled kindly. He stood up and wandered across his office towards the door. "I regret that I can't help you further, Miss Potter. The Sorting Hat's decision is final and I make it a rule of mine never to argue with hats."

He opened the door and a startled-looking Luna stood at the door, her wispy hair windswept from where Harry suspected she'd been skipping down the corridors.

"Ah, good evening Miss Lovegood."

"You asked to see me, Headmaster?"

"Yes. I wonder if you might take Miss Potter to the Ravenclaw common room. Unfortunately I've had to drag these four young people away from their feast in a matter of wizarding urgency, but all's right as rain again."

"Oh, of course, Headmaster!" Luna beamed. Her eyes sought the youngest Potter and held her hand out. Harry balked at the gesture. Alice rose to her feet and nervously took Luna's hand. Luna dragged her out into the corridor and the others were left with the sound of Luna's shoes echoing down the hall as she skipped. Harry imagined Alice was not skipping along with her. Rather, she was jogging awkwardly beside her.

"I'm sorry about her, Professor," said Harry glumly. "She's been a bit emotional about coming here this past year."

"Oh, it's no matter to be, Harry. I was considerably worse when I started at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore sat back down in his chair and leaned back, looking out nostalgically at a replaying memory of his. "I recall that I was pertubed about being sorted into Gryffindor because the colour red is not very becoming of my eyes. I nearly insisted that I be placed in Ravenclaw."

"What, really?" asked Ron, bemused.

"Indeed. Of course, I was refused. I was forced to face a future in which my school tie would make my eyes appear bloodshot. Those were sorrowful days, I tell you."

Harry smiled awkwardly.

"Well, you three should rest yourselves. Big day tomorrow, lessons and such."

"Yes, Professor, um... thank you."

The trio scurried out of the door. They would not get back to the feast in time to eat any more and silently agreed to head back to the Gryffindor common room before the others hearded in.

"Another year, another mental anecdote from Dumbledore," said Ron as they collapsed onto the sofas in the empty common room. "I reckon this year's going to be interesting. I mean, we've got Hagrid as a teacher. At least we know Care of Magical Creatures will be a doss."

"Ron..." said Hermione warningly. She silenced him. Harry poked the glowing embers in the fire grumpily with the poker.

"Poor Alice," sighed Ron. "She must be shitting bricks."

"Ronald. That is vulgar and unhelpful," Hermione scolded. "She'll be fine. She has Luna."

Ron nodded encouragingly before the realistic outcome of Alice's apprenticeship as Luna's junior fruitloop sunk in.

"Bugger this," said Harry suddenly, dropping the poker and standing up. "I'd better write to Mum and Dad. They'll want to know how she's settling in."

oOoOoO

It was pitch black and raining outside. Lily stood at the large cupboard & shelf unit at the back of her living room, gazing fondly at the old framed pictures of her family. There was one in which she and her husband were dancing together in a breezy autumn park. That was the guests' favourite. Hers had to be the one beside it: Harry aged 3, holding his arms out to a wadding baby Alice, who stumbled into her brother as she struggled to take her first steps. Milestones were a brutal joy.

Behind her, her fireplace roared with green flames and a tired-looking Sirius Black stepped out into the lounge.

"Evening!"

"Hi, Padfoot. Tea?"

"Something stronger."

"'Kay."

She tore her gaze away from the pictures and went through to the dining room. The house was so quiet it was almost painful.

"Well?" Sirius called from the lounge. "Have you heard from them?"

Lily sighed. "Yes. Have you?"

Sirius didn't respond. As Lily heard his footsteps coming towards the dining room across the hall, she pulled her wand out of her back pocket.

"_Alohomora_" she muttered at the drinks cabinet. The glass door clicked open and she reached in for the brandy.

Sirius came in and sat at one of the chairs.

"Elsie's in Slytherin."

Lily turned and saw his glum expression.

"Oh..."

She quickly turned back and reached for a tumbler glass. "Well, good for her."

When she turned back and placed the bottle and glass on the table, Sirius raised an eyebrow at her.

"Don't give me that look, Padfoot. I know what you're thinking, but not all Slytherins are bad eggs!"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "It's... it's just another bloody thing I've got to worry about."

He grabbed the bottle and poured some amber liquid into the small glass.

"What do you mean?" asked Lily.

Sirius downed the drink. "We're having a bit of a money crisis at the moment."

"Oh... how come?"

Sirius shrugged and leant back in his chair. "My kids eat like hippogriffs, my job's not too well-paying, my bloody house is falling apart in its old age..."

"... Isabelle can't say no to another diamond necklace?" Lily finished for him with a smirk. He grinned half-heartedly back at her.

"It would help if she was kept away from muggle London, that's for sure."

"I'll do my best," Lily smiled, pouring him another glass. "But why didn't you tell us sooner? We could've-"

"No, no and no, Lily. You and James aren't giving us a single sickle."

"But-"

"We'll find a way. I'll write more articles and we'll sell some bits of furniture. We'll be fine, honestly."

Lily was doubtful, but offered her friend a smile.

"I don't have much choice, Lily," he smiled weakly. "I've got to make ends meet, especially with the twins going away in two years."

"That'll be fine. We can give you Harry and Alice's old stuff. Aida can have Elsie's if she's in Slythein."

"Don't even start on the twins' sorting..." said Sirius darkly, taking the brandy bottle from Lily. "Aida's petrified now."

Lily frowned. Her jolly little goddaughter was never really one for taking steps backwards. It was a little odd hearing Sirius talking about Aida as an individual. Usually, she came in a package deal with her twin brother.

"Where did Alice get sorted into?"

"Ravenclaw."

"Ah..."

"Which is fine! She just... gets a bit anxious when she doesn't know anyone."

"I know."

"And I'm not there to comfort her."

"I know."

"Both my children are hundreds of miles away."

"I know."

"And this house is too bloody quiet and it's driving me mad."

Sirius stood up and walked past her. Lily didn't bother asking him what he was doing. Seconds later, he sat back down with a second tumbler glass in his hand. He poured out brandy in the two glasses and pushed one towards Lily.

Lily shook her head.

"Drink up, matey."

"No thanks."

"Oh go on, Lils."

"I can't."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. Lily looked up at him, shrugged and gave a shy smile. When Sirius opened his mouth to speak, Lily put an index finger to her lips and winked.

Sirius sighed, picked up her drink, downed it and pulled out his wand.

"_Aguamenti_"

Cold water filled the little glass and Lily chuckled.

"A toast!" she declared, lifting her glass of water. "To Elsie Black: An ambitious and intelligent Slytherin!"

"And to Alice Potter," grinned Sirius, holding his glass up to hers. "A wise 'n' witty Ravenclaw!"

Lily laughed out loud. They clinked glasses and sipped. Though it was impossible for either to know what the other was thinking, they were both toasting to the same things internally: their children, their fortunes and their futures.

oOoOoO

_A/N: *Wink, wink* Review and stuff. If you hate the storyline, that's fine, you don't have to read any further. _

_Thanks to all (helpful) reviewers so far! _

_P.S: Mum's baby was born on Monday. Her name's Bella. *Cries self to sleep*_

_Nel X_


	21. Calm Down

To Alice Potter, the Ravenclaw common room looked as though a war had just ended. There was a handful of new students sitting slumped or crying in corners with older ones trying to comfort them. She supposed, on a happier day, the common room might look pretty. The décor was centered around the night sky. The high domed ceiling showed a starry charm similar to the one in the Great Hall. The room was round, so the sofas and bookcases were placed higgledy-piggledy around the room. In that sense, it could've resembled her bedroom.

Over in the corner, right beside a tight spiral staircase, was a statue of a lady.

"That's Rowena Ravenclaw," Luna smiled, following Alice's gaze. "She's lovely, isn't she?"

Alice appraised the statue. She looked wrong; out of place; brand new. She was white and detailed. She looked out over the common room with a severe look of pride. She was so lifelike it was unnerving.

"She looks lost," Alice commented.

Luna sighed. "It can't be easy, navigating your way around the afterlife. Some people never grasp the concept of mortality, let alone death. Maybe she's still thinking."

Alice looked up at her companion. Luna was gazing up at the statue with nostalgia. She turned and smiled at Alice.

"Your suitcase and bird will be in your dormitory by now. Would you like me to show you?"

"No, I... think I can manage..." as Alice spoke, she noticed something stirring in the shadows of a tall bookcase near them. She heard a whimper.

"I think I'll be going to bed then," said Luna. "You can come and get me in the night if you need anything."

"Thank you... Luna."

Luna skipped away, through the groups of students that would've stared or sniggered at her, had they not been preoccupied by the terrified first years.

Alice tiptoed over to the whimpering bookcase. It was crammed with leather-bound books on divination, astronomy, stories... if Alice could give credit to anything today, it was that her new common room had an exciting collection of books.

She peered round the bookcase.

Crouched on the floor behind it was a round, podgy boy. He wore a huge pair of glasses and a bow tie. He was pouting almost comically. Big dollop tears rolled down his face.

"Excuse me..." began Alice, coming into full view. The boy looked up and sniffed. "Are you alright?"

The boy nodded.

"Why are you crying?" she tried again.

The boy wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I'm not. Leave me alone."

Alice frowned. "I was only asking. You seemed upset."

The boy looked down at his crossed legs again. Alice peered round at the rest of the common room, where the few other scared first years were surrounded by hoards of sympathetic older students. This boy had nobody.

She walked round him and sat down directly in front of him.

"I'm Alice Potter."

The boy looked up, suddenly looking in awe.

"Really? Harry Potter's sister?"

"Yes. What's your name?"

The boy frowned again. "Rudge," he mumbled. "Skippy Rudge."

"I beg your pardon?" said Alice unthinkingly.

"Skippy Rudge. Mum's a muggle animal activist. She named my sister and I after animals she'd worked with who'd been killed in inhumane ways. You know, to honour them."

Alice was not sure whether to laugh or cry. "... I see."

"And now everyone knows that I have a stupid name because that witch read out my name to the whole school!" he cried loudly. Alice looked around nervously. She noticed now that there were a few students smirking at them. Alice scowled back.

"I don't understand!" he cried, even louder. "When they read out my sister's name, people clapped!" he bowed his head again and sobbed once. "Maybe when I become a prefect, people will stop laughing at me..."

"What's your sister's name?"

"Tabby."

"...Oh."

Alice had been vaguely conscious of the prefect announcements after the Sorting. Tabby Rudge was a gryffindor prefect. She was pretty and tall. She had a group of friend who'd sat near Harry, who'd smiled sadly at her.

Alice watched Skippy cry. She was not often the person to turn to for comfort, having only eleven years of life experience to offer. So, silently, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the little bag that Dumbledore had given her.

"Pear drop?" she asked. Skippy stopped crying. He looked at the bag, looked up at her, and down at the bag again. When he didn't take one, Alice reached in and took one for herself. She popped it into her mouth. The sugar coating scratched the roof of her mouth but the sweet taste almost made her smile. They reminded her of Dumbledore's eccentric humour.

Skippy reached in with a fat hand, pulled one out and put it in his mouth. Seconds later, he smiled at her.

The room went silent suddenly. Skippy's gaze moved to the corner of the room, where everyone else was now staring.

A tall, gangly, fair-haired boy was standing in the doorway of the common room looking slightly out of breath. He stared round at the rest of Ravenclaw in fear, who all appeared to be scowling at him. Some were mumbling unintelligable words, but Alice did not need to be able to hear them to know that they were unpleasant.

The boy gulped. He took one look at the staircase towards the boys's dormitories and sprinted across the common room towards it. He swooped up the staircase and disappeared. The room buzzed with whispers.

"Who was that?" Alice asked.

"Miles Malfoy," mumbled Skippy. "His brother's been arguing with Slughorn all afternoon, getting him to let him into Slytherin. I expect he tried Dumbledore too."

"Has he done something wrong?"

"Why d'you ask?"

"Everyone looks like they hate him."

"He's a Malfoy. Everyone hates The Malfoys."

"But has he actually done anything? Has he upset someone? Hurt someone?"

"The Malfoys hate muggle-borns."

"I know," said Alice darkly, recalling her mother's encounter with Lucius Malfoy at Flourish & Blotts. "That doesn't mean _he_ does."

"...true..."

oOoOoOo

"Butterbeer, Molly?" asked James, smiling pleasantly. Lily rolled her eyes at him as she sat down.

"Oh, erm... no, just a small glass of mead will do for me. Thank you, James," said Molly, blushing.

James and Sirius went up to order from the bar while Molly and Lily shrugged out of their coats and sat down. The Leaky Cauldron was often fairly busy on a Saturday, with witches and wizards drowning their shopping frustrations in whisky. Lily had neglected to make any proper contact with Molly other than in the odd letter about the boys, so was compelled to invite her out. She just hoped that her insufferable husband would behave himself.

"This is ever so kind of you, Lily!" beamed Molly. "I've never been one for frequenting pubs, but this is a lovely treat!"

"Oh, don't thank me. James is paying."

Molly looked over at the bar and straightened her back. "You're a very lucky woman, Lily."

"I know," she sighed as the men returned.

"Here you are, ladies!" grinned James, placing the tray of drinks on the table. "One butterbeer, one white rat whisky, one mead and one pumpkin juice."

Lily smirked at the astonished look she received from Molly.

"Not drinking, Lily?" asked Molly weakly.

"Nope. Better not."

"I... see..."

"Do you?" Lily grinned, casting a glance at her husband who was hiding a smirk behind his glass of butterbeer.

"Of course I do... seven children..."

James' shoulders were shaking. Lily kicked her husband' leg under the table, causing him to splatter froth everywhere.

Molly cleared her throat. "Well, I daresay congratulations are in order!" she daintily picked up her mead. "Cheers, everybody!"

"Yes, cheers!" said Sirius. He grabbed his drink and stood up. "A toast" To the new Potter baby!"

"Oi, Padfoot, keep it down!" hissed James.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" roared a voice. The group pratcially leapt from their seats.

"GET OUT OF MY PUB!" Tom the barman was shouting at a tall, bald man in dark green robes. He was ushering a group of alarmed-looking people out of the pub. They all wore jeans and coats. The bald man handled them in a way that one might carry a garbage bag.

"Sir, have you read the sign at the back of the courtyard out there?" asked the bald man.

"'Course I bloody have and it's complete ruddy rubbish!"

Lily felt her face flush.

The bald man remained calm and composed. Lily noticed two oily- looking gentleman lingering in the doorway. She suspected them of being with this man...

"Then you'll know, Sir, that the Ministry of Magic issued a decree for the prohibition of muggles in public wizarding places four months ago. You've had since then to initiate the new laws."

Lily looked at her husband, whose jaw was locked in anger. Lily gulped and moved closer towards him. He flinched when she laced her fingers with his.

"Sod your bloody law," Tom growled, walking around the bar to stand inches from the bald man. "It ain't right that there's parents what can't buy their kids a broomstick. Are you a father?"

"I am, Sir."

"Then what the bloody hell are you doing banning muggles from being a part of their relatives' lives, eh?"

The bald man took a step forward so that his nose was almost touching Tom's. Out of nowhere, Lily saw Rita Skeeter slowly pop up between them and silently begin to scribble on a note pad.

"I am a pureblood, Sir. My wife is a pureblood and my daughters and purebloods."

"Slytherins?"

"No. Ravenclaws."

Tom's eyes narrowed.

"Just like myself, my wife and my father, thus not disturbing the balance of the Houses."

The bald man took a step backwards towards the door. He appraised the frozen crowd, who stared at him wide-eyed.

"It is my job to remind those of you who have forgotten the generosity of the wizarding world. We have allowed muggles to permeate the walls of our great society. We have let their children integrate with our children: _pure _witches and wizards..."

James was shaking. Lily's grip on his hand tightened.

"... need I remind you that _they _were the ones who burned and slaughtered our ancestors? They were the ones who exhiled us because of who were are and what we can do. That, my fellow wizards, is discrimination at it's worst. We have done so much for them. We have spent galleons on keeping them protected. We defeated You-know-who in order to-"

"_You? YOU DEFEATED THEM?!" _James roared, letting go of Lily's hand. "You and your sodding ministry took no part in Voldemort's death! It was us! A bunch of teenagers, some ministry-opposing aurors and a baby boy!"

The bald man ignored James entirely. Instead, he glared at Lily.

"Mrs Potter..." he said, slowly approaching them.

"Don't talk to her," James growled.

"_James..._" warned Lily.

The bald man stopped several feet away from them.

"Congratulations, Mrs Potter. Your _masterpiece _has been in the bestseller chart for the past six weeks. You must be pleased."

"Extremely," she said bluntly.

"It's quite famous among my colleagues at the ministry. You ought to be careful. It's made a few people rather cross."

"_Is that a threat?_" she demanded, stepping towards him. James moved with her. He took a quick step backwards.

"Your subject choice wasn't well chosen, Mrs Potter. At least, not for this modern age."

"How dare you..."

"I'm afraid that if anybody in here has a query about the new laws, they should contact my superior at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Who's that then?" asked James coldly.

The bald man turned away from them and walked towards the door.

"Lucius Malfoy!" he called behind him as he and his two companions left.

Murmuring eventually picked up as people sank back into their seats. James had gone purple.

"Prongs, mate, calm down."

"Why should I?" he spat, clicking his knuckles.

"Darling..." said Lily softly, placing a hand over his. "Let's just finish our drinks."

James took a deep breath. "We have to do something..." he growled.

"We will," promised Lily. "I have an idea for a sequel..."

oOoOoO

"This is barbaric!" exclaimed Hermione, collapsing into the seat beside Ron. He, Harry, Alice and Elsie all sat in a clump on the end of the gryffindor table, slowly finishing their dinner.

"This is utterly barbaric!"

"Are you gunna tell us what you're talking about?" asked Ron, half-audible with a mouth full of chicken.

"_THIS._"

She slammed a copy of the Daily Prophet on the table, making the others jump. On the front was a picture of Tom, the owner of The Leaky Cauldron, looking disgruntled as he buffered his way through photographers, carrying two suitcases.

"What's happened?" asked Harry.

"Tom's been evicted from The Leaky Cauldron."

"_What?_" exclaimed Harry and Ron together. Alice and Elsie leaned forward to hear the commotion.

"Why?" asked Harry.

Hermione picked up the newspaper and hastily read it aloud.

"_Fogget Forgot the Law: _By Rita Skeeter. Tom Fogget, owner of The Leaky Cauldron in London was forced to sell his pub to Ministry Officials yesterday after he refused to comply with new wizarding laws..." Hermione practically snarled at the newspaper. "Fogget was confronted Eberneezer Bogtrot, a junior official in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, on September the third to remind Mr Fogget of the ban on muggle entrance to public Wizarding places. Eye witnesses say that Tom Fogget was uncompliant and aggressive towards the Ministry Official. The encounter took place while the Leaky Cauldron were celebrating Lily and James Potters' announcement that they're expecting..."

Hermione stared at the paper.

"... expecting what, Hermione?" asked Harry darkly.

She looked up at him.

"Their third child."

OoOoOoO

_A/N: And I'll leave that for you over Christmas. _

_Have a good one, _

_Nel X_


	22. Bambi

Lily sat at her dining table with a hot mug of tea which Molly had insisted she consume. It trembled in her hands.

"I'm a terrible mother..." she whimpered, staring blankly at the table.

"Oh don't be ridiculous," scolded Molly, rubbing Lily's back. "That vile journalist only made it _sound _like you were a terrible mother, whereas in reality-"

"Harry hates me!"

"He doesn't hate you, dear, don't be silly. You don't know _what _he's thinking."

"He's thinking that his parents were out boozing with strangers to celebrate their new baby before telling their other children!"

"Well..."

James and Sirius entered the room: a tawny owl perched on Sirius' wrist and a roll of parchment in James' hand.

"We're going to try and owl Harry again," sighed James, dropping the parchment down opposite Lily. "Only this time, we're going to arrange to meet him."

Lily looked up from her steaming cup of tea with an unamused expression.

"Can't you wait until the next Hogsmeade visit?"

"No, Lily! I won't be able to sleep if I know he and Alice are under the impression that we think that little of them!"

Behind him, Sirius rolled his eyes. "And here I was thinking Remus was the melodramatic sufferer in the group..."

"Padfoot, make yourself useful and get a quill and ink."

"With pleasure, your highness!" Sirius kicked James in the backside as he turned and left.

James was left appraising the scene before him: Molly Weasley sitting beside a teary-eyed Lily, attempting to comfort her. He nearly rolled his eyes.

"I'll leave you two alone..." whispered Molly, grinning understandingly at James and she got up.

"Oh, James, erm... when you write the letter to Harry, could you possibly tell him that if Ron even _thinks _about leaving his dormitory after hours, he will be eating nothing but gruel for the entirety of Christmas."

With that, she left.

As soon as she was out the room, James sat down in her vacated seat and clasped his wife's hands in his.

"It'll be fine Lily. Padfoot and I will go up there and explain everything and we might even see Alice up there-"

"Do _not _drag her out into the grounds in the middle of the night like you do with Harry!"

"Fine, fine..."

Lily returned to frowning at her tea. "We're having another baby, James. I'm going to be a mother of three."

"That has been established, yes."

"I thought... I thought we were passed that."

James raised his eyebrows. "We're thirty three, Lily, not ninety. We were just a little eager at the beginning, that's all."

"Don't you think it's unfair on the other two? Is that why they haven't replied?"

James tilted his head. "What d'you mean?"

"Do you think they feel left out?"

"Left out of what, the baby-making?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Forget it. It's stupid," she stood up. "Make sure Harry doesn't get in trouble."

"He won't."

"Give him a big hug from me."

"I will."

"In fact..." Lily reached over the table and grabbed the parchment. "Give him a letter for me."

oOo

Nine cups of tea, four drafts of Lily's letter and five hours later, James and Sirius were in the forbidden forest. It was as dark and foreboding as they'd always remembered. Possibly not as terrifying, having been only eighteen years old the last time they ventured in. That still didn't detract from the magic of it.

"Bloody apparition..." grumbled Sirius, clutching his stomach. "You'd think after this many years, I'd be able to jump from place to place by now. I just feel sick each time."

"That's because you're a wimp, my furry friend," said James jovially, looking around at their surroundings. The forest was surprisingly bright; illuminated by an eerie blue-ish hue.

"Full moon," noted Sirius. "If Tonks didn't know about Remus before, she does now."

"Poor Moony," sighed James. "Though I reckon he did tell her. I bet this is turning out to be one lousy honeymoon night..." the two men shared a chuckle.

"Now: dilemma," began Sirius. "Either we meet Harry as humans, keep hold of our wands and potentially be caught or killed by giant carnivorous beasts, or we meet Harry as a dog and a stag, lose all magic ability and be able to out-run any giant carnivorous beasts that would probably be slightly less interested in smelly animals, though any patrolling humans would be slightly suspicious of a giant stag trotting through a remote forest with a stray irish wolfhound."

James stared Sirius blankly.

"Human or Deer, my friend?"

"You're a prat, Padfoot. I brought the invisibility cloak."

"Ah."

"Indeed. Now stop rambling and get walking."

The two men trudged quietly through the forest, their hands occasionally twitching towards their pockets where their wands were kept.

"Old habits die hard, eh?" James laughed nervously.

"Hmm?"

"Our wands."

"Well if I remember correctly, the last time we were all in this forest, I was on the floor getting my leg snapped in half by a death eater."

"The good old days..."

"Memories, eh?"

"What a childhood."

Though neither of them would admit it, they both felt a surge of relief as the edge of the forest came into sight. The trees broke apart and they were in a grassy clearing, staring up at the castle on the hill. The tiny windows twinkled with candlelight and the full moon made the lake shine silver.

"Blimey..."

"You got that right, Prongs..."

The breeze was pleasant. Slowly, dormitory lights were being extinguished. Owls hooted. Waves lapped against the rocky bay by the lake.

"I'll always miss this place," said Sirius. Of course, James agreed. He didn't verbalise his thoughts. The scene was too peaceful to disturb.

"Here they come," said Sirius lowly. James followed his friend's gaze. Harry and Ron were trudging up the hill in their pyjamas and cloaks, talking quietly to one another.

"How the bloody hell did they do that without some sort of invisibility charm?" asked Sirius.

"Please, I made Harry learn every secret passageway that there is."

When Harry spied his father, his expression darkened. Ron gulped.

"This is going to be grim," commented Sirius.

"I know," James shot his friend a grateful smile.

They made their way towards Harry and Ron.

"Thanks for meeting us, boys," said James loudly as they approached. Harry said nothing until he and Ron were standing ten feet away from him and Sirius.

Harry shrugged. "Ron and I were just saying that we feel like we've snuck out to meet a couple of Slytherins for a duel,"

Judging by Ron's expression, he was not the mediator of that analogy.

"I don't want us to fight, son," said James softly. "I want to explain."

"What is there to explain?" demanded Harry, his glasses glinting in the moonlight as he took a long stride towards his father. "Mum's pregnant and you decided to tell everyone in the wizarding world before telling us. How is that fair?"

James sighed. "Harry, the Daily Prophet are notorious for printing false accounts of events. You _know _that. Rita Skeeter is a dreadful liar. She's famous for it!"

Harry crossed his arms. "So... Mum's not pregnant then?"

James swallowed nervously. "Yes, she is."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"But we didn't tell anyone!"

"Then how is it that everybody already knows?!"

"It was my fault," said a voice that was not James. He, Harry and Ron turned to look at Sirius, who appeared stiff and solemn as though giving a public announcement of death.

"I guessed that Lily was pregnant because she wasn't drinking. Then we went to the leaky cauldron where I proposed a toast and that's where Rita Skeeter was lurking. I spoke a little too loudly. I'm sorry."

Harry stood eyeing Sirius and James suspiciously for what was a torturously long time.

"Harry?"

It was Ron who'd spoken.

"Come on, mate. Hermione was right. You don't want to fight with your parents."

"Hermione doesn't know what she's talking about," said Harry coldly.

"Harry..." James gave his son a disapproving look before reproaching the conversation. "Please don't drag this out any longer. You're mother's at her wits' end."

James saw it in him: Harry's love for his mother was so great that he almost broke down and begged for forgiveness right there and then, but if Harry had inherited anything from his father, it was stubbornness.

"She wanted to give you a letter," said Sirius pointedly, raising his eyes at James. James took his queue and pulled Lily's letter out of his pocket. He held it out to Harry who practically snatched the thing, ripped it open and read it intensely.

"She's OK?" he asked as he scanned the letter.

"She's fine. She's just worried."

"Worried that I hate her..."

"Pretty much, son."

When his son looked up at him, his teary eyes were so heart-breaking that James did not wait for a break in the barrier before stomping over to him and hugging him tightly. Rather than tense up, Harry threw his arms around his father in return.

"I found it so hard to believe that you and Mum would do that..." Harry mumbled into his Dad's shoulder.

"I know. You'd never think that little of us."

The pair let each other go and adjusted their coats. They senses Ron and Sirius standing awkwardly nearby.

"Your mother's going to need a bit more convincing," said James.

Harry grimaced. "I'll write to her in the morning."

James smiled at his son. "Nothing would make her happier. How's your sister? Is she well?"

"She's in Ravenclaw."

"We know. Is she alright?"

Harry shrugged. "I've barely seen her. She just clings to Elsie or Luna usually."

James and Sirius exchanged an anxious glance. News of their daughters was scarce these days. Unnerving details such as this were as welcomed as they were scary.

"Well... remind her to write more often. And Elsie too."

"Will do."

Content to have reached a conclusion, James looked round at his surroundings once again. True, he did miss the golden days of his youth spent here, but he wouldn't go back. He'd grown up. Hogwarts was not for him anymore.

"I just realised something!" said James suddenly. "Look over there, Padfoot!"

The four men craned to get a glimpse at whatever James was pointing at.

He rolled his eyes. "That tree by the lake. That's where my first kiss with Lily was."

"Very romantic," said Harry dryly.

"It was, until your godfather here came and ruined it!"

Harry and Ron burst out laughing as Sirius held his hands up in defence.

"You always were a cockblocking prat, Padfoot."

"_Dad_..." groaned Harry while Ron continued to laugh.

"I'm only saying!" laughed James. "It's weird though, isn't it? Right here was where I first kissed your mother, and now... I'm standing here with our teenage son."

Harry glanced over at the tree again. A small smile played at his lips.

"Harry," began James again, curiously. "You are happy about the new baby, aren't you?"

Harry thought for a moment. "I can't say I'm a huge fan of nappies, but I reckon having a brother would be cool."

James smiled. "You want a brother, do you?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not fussed. If it's a girl, I'll be the only boy, ergo I'll be 'the special one'" he grinned.

James rolled his eyes again, but said nothing. He would never be able to convince any of his children that attention did not equal love when it came to being a parent. Hopefully, Harry would understand one day.

"Whether it's a brother or a sister," sighed Harry, "I want it to be ginger."

Beside James, Sirius grinned. "Not a fan of the old Potter crows' feathers, are you?" Sirius lunged forward and caught his godson in a headlock, rubbing Harry's hair while he begged for mercy.

"Put the boy down, Sirius, we've got wives to return to."

Harry and Sirius separated, both laughing and red-faced. Harry's hair looked ridiculous.

"Remember to write to your mother," said James. "And Ron, your mother said to not leave your dorm under any circumstances."

Ron sighed and rolled his eyes. "Brilliant. Thanks, Mum."

"Have a good term, boys!" James called after them as they began to depart. "Hopefully next time we see you, we'll be holding tickets to the Quidditch World Cup!"

In the distance, they saw Ron turn and splutter nonsense, with Harry laughing and looking much more elated than he'd been before.

oOo

_A/N: thanks to all who've reviewed thus far. How very kind X_


	23. Animal House

"Who's a clever bird?" Lily cooed at the tawney owl that dropped the post onto her toast. "You! You're a clever bird! Oh, have some of my toast..."

Lily began to pick at the bread with nimble fingers, ripping bits of the crust and avoiding the blobs of jam.

"Don't be too generous, Lils," warned James from behind his newspaper. "You're eating for two now."

"I'm sure the crusts of my toast won't go amiss."

"So _that's _your secret to gloriously straight hair."

"Shut up and drink your tea."

"As you wish."

Lily sprinkled the crusts around the happy bird's feet. He pecked at them hungrily and swallowed them whole.

"Isn't Harry feeding your properly?" she asked soothingly, running the back of her finger along his soft feathers.

"He's a busy bird!" explained James. "That bloody raven doesn't do post."

Lily sighed. "Well we can't get rid of it. Alice would be devastated."

"Never said we should!"

"No? You're perfectly happy to tolerate the bird that practically snapped one of your fingers off?"

"A flesh wound, nothing more."

"You sod."

"Shut up and open your post."

"As you wish."

Lily recognised Molly's handwriting on the address of a large parcel. Harry, Alice and Hermione had all written letters to her, as had her publisher, Constance Grubb. Constance's envelope was ominously small and turquoise.

"Oh dear," James grinned. "Looks like you're in trouble."

"So it would seem," she sighed. She'd wanted to read the letters from her children first, knowing that their reactions to her pregnancy would be encased within them. However, she did not fancy leaving the howler any longer. She was already feeling rough after a long morning of vomitting. She did not fancy a burst eardrum and migraine.

"You read Harry's first. You can tell me if it's bad or not."

"I told you, he..."

"Alright, Alice's then. I'll deal with this monstrosity..."

Lily took a deep breath before ripping the flap of the envelope. Within seconds, the howler leapt out of her hands and floated in front of her, mangling itself into the shape of a mouth.

"LILY!" roared Constance Grubb's shrill voice. She was rarely angry, and so shouting had a grave effect on her voice. She often sounded as though she was crying.

"I MIGHT'VE GUESSED YOU'D BE SO CARELESS! WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN WERE YOU THINKING?!"

Lily and James exchanged bewildered looks.

"I WARNED YOU, LILY! I TOLD YOU THAT THIS BOOK WOULD MAKE PEOPLE ANGRY! NOW WHAT DO I HAVE ON MY DESK?! A LETTER FROM THE BLOODY MINISTRY, TELLING ME THAT BLOODY LILY POTTER IS A BLOODY ANARCHIST AND A BLOODY MINISTRY OPPOSER AND A BLOODY MADWOMAN!"

James still looked confused. Lily's face went red.

"IF I LOSE MY BLOODY JOB BECAUSE YOU _INSISTED _ON PUBLISHING A BLOODY MUGGLE-SYMPATHISING BOOK IN _THIS _SOCIAL CLIMATE, I WILL KILL YOU!"

"Bit dramatic..." muttered James. Lily shushed him.

"THE MINISTRY ARE PUTTING MORE PRO-PUREBLOOD LEGISLATION TOGETHER, AND _YOU _CHOOSE TO WRITE _THIS_?!

Lily and James' eyes widened. Lily felt a jolt of lava shoot through her veins.

"SORT IT OUT! YOU WRITE TO THE MINISTRY, TELLING THEM THAT IT WAS NOTHING BUT A CHILDREN'S STORY! NOTHING MORE!"

With that, the howler viciously shredded itself and curled into strips in the middle of the kitchen table.

"What a lunatic!" James chuckled, taking another sip of his tea.

Lily bit her lip. "What did she mean by 'more pro-pureblood legislation'?"

James shrugged. "Search me. It's probably a useless clause that nobody cares about. We'd have heard about it by now if it was serious."

"James, this _is_ serious... why on earth are they so inclined towards purebloods all of a sudden?"

James looked her straight in the eye. "Don't worry about it. Your book ruffled some feathers at the Ministry, so what? They still don't like us, remember? The Order of the Phoenix showed them up. They're just making you look bad. There will probably be a short article in the _Prophet _panning your book, and then they'll get over it!"

Lily smiled half-heartedly. "I hope you're right."

"I'm always right."

Lily shot him a look. "What did Harry's letter say?"

"Dunno, haven't checked."

"Well check, then!"

James huffed and tore open Harry's letter. Lily watched with baited breath.

James scanned the letter calmly, looking as though it regaled him of the weather at Hogwarts. Then, he turned from nonchalant to suddenly furious.

"That bastard!" he exclaimed, swooping down to inspect the writing. "That bloody madman!"

"Oh Merlin, is it that bad?!

"What is _wrong _with him?!" James roared. "That lying, two-faced bastard!"

"...James, he's your son!"

"No he bloody isn't!"

"_What_?!"

James looked up at her. He looked baffled. "What's wrong?"

"You just said... you just... _Harry's your effing son_!"

"I know he is, you lunatic! What are you talking about?"

"What are _you _talking about!"

"Moony!" James exclaimed. "He's teaching at Hogwarts!"

oOo

It had been a relief for Harry and his friends to finally hear that a teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts had been employed and would start immediately. However, that surge of excitement to learn of new creatures and new spells quickly dissolved when Harry's Uncle Remus swaggered in to the classroom on his first day.

"Good morning, class!" he'd said when he was at the front. He'd seemed acutely aware that Harry, Ron and Hermione were gawping at him from the front row. "My name is Professor Lupin and I'll be your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. I trust we're all eager to start the course?"

"Certainly, _professor," _Harry had responded loudly.

To Harry's relief, Remus had proved himself to be a brilliant teacher. He was clear and patient and often funny, without straying from the topic. However, he was very busy. By the end of the week, the class knew everything there was to know about boggarts, but Harry had not been able to get a word in edgeways about Remus' abrupt employment.

On the Friday, Remus gave his class a test. Even Neville, who'd struggled through Defence Against the Dark Arts since first year was getting respectable grades in his homework and was even answering questions willingly in class. Remus was a miracle worker, but it wasn't long before Harry had had enough of the silent treatment.

"Go on, you lot!" Remus announced to the class on Friday afternoon. "Off to lunch!"

Students began shoving their things into their bags and sprinting for the door, waving a half-conscious thanks to their professor before disappearing.

"_Professor,_" began Harry, still unable to say the word without it dripping with sarcasm. "May we have a word?"

Remus ceased stacking the text books and blinked several times at the trio. Ron and Hermione, who flanked Harry, looking doubtful.

"Certainly, Harry."

Three pairs of eyes widened.

"What, really?" asked Harry.

"Of course. It's about time, isn't it?

Harry gawped at Remus for a few seconds before shaking himself out of a stupor. "Yes. Yes, definitely about time some questions were answered!"

Remus smiled amusedly. He pulled a stool out from under the nearest desk and sat down, leaning on his knees, ready for Harry's onslaught.

"First of all, why the hell are you teaching at Hogwarts all of a sudden?"

"My honeymoon was splendid, Harry, thank you for asking."

"Is everything alright with Tonks?" interjected Hermione, looking concerned.

"Oh, I'm sure she's fine."

"Uncle Remus, I-" Harry began to argue.

"So where is she?" asked Hermione.

"No idea!" replied Remus, shrugging. Seeing the expressions of alarm on the three faces, he smiled. "She's an auror. I never know where she is."

"Uncle R-"

"So... are you two still married?" asked Ron.

Remus laughed. "Blissfully so! You must have a rather cynical view of marriage to even contemplate the idea that mine lasted a mere two months, Mr Weasley!"

"Will you just answer my question?!" Harry blurted.

"And what question is that, Harry?"

Harry sighed in exasperation. "Why are you here?"

Remus shrugged. "I'm teaching."

"Oh wow. That clears things up. Let's go, guys."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Harry, what do you want me to say?"

"I dunno, I just... you didn't say anything about teaching before you went away, now you're here. What happened between now and then?"

Remus looked solemn all of a sudden. "Nothing. That's my point."

The three stood with vague expressions.

"My wife's an auror. She's always busy. She's always _doing _something. I was a miserable unemployable layabout whose wife hardly ever came home. Then it hit me: why not become a teacher at Hogwarts? I'd be busy, Dumbledore wouldn't cast be aside just because of who I am, and I wouldn't be lonely."

Harry swallowed, feeling guilty for having asked in the first place.

"Won't you ever get to see Tonks?" asked Hermione sadly.

"Of course! That's the beauty of it. She comes home, here, whenever she's not on a mission. That way, I'm overjoyed to see her without being miserable every second that she's away."

"I still don't get why you didn't tell any of us before you started."

Remus shrugged again. "I'm a new man, Harry. I'm impulsive. Instinctual. I live in the present."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "Excuse me while I go and throw up."

Remus chuckled. "How are your parents, Harry? Are they well?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, they're good. Mum's pregnant!"

Remus nodded awkwardly. "Yes, I... heard."

The air was thick with tension.

"Alice is doing well!" said Remus suddenly, distracting them. "Top of the class!"

Harry smiled half-heartedly. "Yeah. She's the brainy one."

Remus rolled his eyes again. "Come on, Harry, lighten up. I haven't seen any of you three put a foot wrong in this past week!"

"That's because you're an amazing teacher!" piped Hermione. Ron gagged.

"Well..." Remus blushed. "That's very kind of you."

"Seriously, though..." Harry began again. "this isn't like you. You've never been..."

"Happy?" guessed Remus with a chuckle.

"I was going to say 'spontaneous'" Harry deadpanned.

Remus smiled fondly, looking around the room as though he'd been raised there.

"I suppose you could say that I've contracted an inflated sense of self-worth. I have my health, I have friends, I have a wife and a job, I have responsibilities and a home to return to in the holidays." He shrugged. maintaining that warm smile that was always, _always _genuine. "I'm happy, Harry. Tonks makes me happy."

Harry suppressed a garish grin. "Cool."

oOo

"If _my _mum had another baby, I think I'd cry," said Elsie casually, in response to Alice Potter's unveiling of a secret. "I'd hate it."

Alice nodded slowly, not fully paying attention to her best friend. Their first practical task in potions class had been a complicated one earlier in the day: a forgetfulness potion. It took hours to make, and so the first years had begrudgingly returned to the classroom at lunch time to finish their potion. Professor Slughorn did not look in the least bit pertubed by the low turnout. Several Slytherin boys and a handful of Gryffindors had not returned.

"Are you not worried at all?" probed Elsie. "You seem very calm about all this..."

"Worried about what?"

"The baby, of course."

"They don't bite."

"Yes they do! Dad had to be taken to St Mungo's when Henry bit into his finger!"

Alice continued grinding the mixture in the mortar. "What's the Slytherin common room like?"

Elsie looked at her friend curiously. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Change the subject all the time. You're not very subtle."

Alice sprinkled a clump of the mixture into the cauldron and smiled satisfactorially as the liquid fizzed. "I've no reason to be scared of a baby and you haven't told me about your common room yet. What's it like?"

Elsie frowned. "It's big and stone. It's a dungeon."

Alice chuckled.

"No, really, it's a dungeon. That's where it was built."

"... oh."

Alice gave the liquid a stir. It was still bubbling, which was a little unnerving, but she had no desire to ask Professor Slughorn for help. He had a knack for striking up long, tedious conversations over absolutely nothing. That was something she recognised about him within ten minutes of their first lesson.

"How do we know if we've done it properly?" asked Elsie as she began ripping mistletoe berries from their stalks. "Surely we can't test it on students..."

"TIME'S UP!" exclaimed Slughorn suddenly, startling the students around him. He clapped his hands together merrily. "Let's check them, shall we? Miss Peck, would you be so kind as to fetch the glass tank at the back of my office, please?"

Ophelia Peck, the girl with shiny blonde locks and a sickeningly pretty face, seemed to glide across the class room. She disappeared behind a curtain of green velvet and re-appeared seconds later, holding a container of dozens of brown rats. She carried them at arm's length.

"Excellent! Who'd like to go first?"

The room stayed silent. Pupils looked around at each other uncomfortably.

"Miss Black? How about you?"

Elsie gulped. "I haven't finished it yet, Sir."

"Oh, that is a shame. Miss Potter?"

There were not nearly as many students in the class as Alice had imagined. She carefully lifted a rat out of the tank and pooled a spoonful of the potion before allowing the rat to drink it. She heard someone in the audience tut.

"Now, place little ratty over here, at the entrace to _the maze..._" Slughorn wheezes a laugh at his vaguely-accurate impression of a theatrical ghost. Alice put the rat down and scooted it in to the entrance of the maze by a few inches. She wasn't sure why. The aim of the experiment was to _not _have the rat find its way to the exit.

The rat looked around at the narrow wooden corridors and scurried forwards and left, into a dead end.

"FANTASTIC!" cried Slughorn, clapping enthusiastically. A few students joined in. "Very well done! Ten points to Ravenclaw!"

Alice must've looked very strange, grinning from ear to ear at nobody in particular. Truth be told, she was ill-acquainted with anyone else in Ravenclaw. There was no point sharing the small victory with Elsie. Skippy Rudge, whom she'd comforted on the first day, smiled widely, as did the Bogtrot twins and the boy who looked like an owl. In the corner, Miles Malfoy also smiled. He looked rather uncomfortable. It was quite sad, really. His inability to escape from the grip of his family's reputation left him at a loss. He was unable to speak to anybody without scaring them, or being turned away. Even if he was successful, his cousin soon scared them off.

Professor Slughorn tested the potions of other students. Alice became wary of Druella Lestrange lingering by Miles Malfoy while his potion was tested. She was like a lion protecting a cub. She was ready to pounce and clamp her jaws around the neck of anyone who laughed if Miles' potion was a failure.

"Oh, how marvellous!" cheered Slughorn when Miles' rat made a wrong turning. "Another ten points to Ravenclaw!"

Miles looked up and immediately grinned at Alice. She was startled by his reaction. She smiled politely back, but feared the scowling Druella behind him.

"Miss Lestrange? Would you like to go next?"

"Certainly, Sir," her voice was lower than the average first year. She seemed incapable of laughing warmly. While Druella fed her rat some potion, Alice tried to picture how Druella might look if she smiled. She'd look very odd. Her face seemed sculpted: it suited a scowl or a poker face. It did not suit a smile. Neither did her name.

"I say, what on earth is it doing?" asked Slughorn, straining to watch it through his poor eyesight.

The room went silent as everybody leaned closer to Druella's desk. The rat was not moving. It hadn't gone anywhere near the entrance of the maze. Instead, it was making a disgusting noise. It sounded like staccato coughs or grunts. It's whiskers were no longer twitching. It just sat there lamely.

"Merlin's beard..." gasped Slughorn. Everybody watched him anxiously as he comprehended what had been done. Alice peered at Druella. She had an eyebrow raised and very subtly, the corners of her mouth were turned upwards. These slight movements alone made her look very, very smug.

"I say! The poor beast has forgotten he's a rat!"

The room gasped.

"Ten points to Slytherin! Oh, how splendid! Gather round everyone! I daresay Miss Lestrange has created the strongest forgetfulness potion I've ever come across!"

Students bustled and battled for a glimpse of the rat and the offending potion. Druella stood there and watched the admirers with satisfaction. Suddenly, she looked up and her eyes fell on Alice. Alice had made no move to see the rat. She was the only student who had not shown interest in Druella's work. Daringly, Alice pretended to stifle a yawn. Druella's eyes widened into a glare.

"Let me see!" cried Skippy Rudge from the back of the gathered crowd. "I can't see!"

"Oh, just push in!" whispered Alice to him. He showed no acknowledgement of what she'd said, but did as he was told. He elbowed his way through disgruntled students until he was almost at the front. A couple of Gryffindor boys were not moving.

"Please can I see?" asked Rudge. "I haven't had a look!"

Alice watched as frustration grew in his expression. Finally, he gave one of the boys a small shove, and he stumbled towards the desk. As he grappled for a grip on the desk, his hand knocked the cauldron and the thick, green liquid splattered all over Druella Lestrange's robes.

Nobody laughed.

"It was an accident!" Rudge whimpered. "I'm sorry, it was an accident!"

"YOU COMLETE OAF!" she shrieked, making mouths drop. "LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"

"There there, Miss Lestrange!" soothed Slughorn. "Mister Rudge here is simply having a clumsy day! Isn't that right, Rudge?"

"Yes, Sir! I'm really sorry, Druella!"

"Don't you dare talk to me..." Druella's voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. She sauntered up to Rudge with a deadly glower on her face. "You're nothing but a fat, blubbering simpleton."

"Druella-" warned Miles.

Druella spun round. "Are you going to defend him, cousin? You saw what he did."

"It wasn't his fault," Miles muttered, bowing his head.

Druella narrowed her eyes. "You're right. It wasn't his fault."

Rudge looked as though he was in love with her. Druella glared at Alice. "It was _yours._"

"Now, there's no need to point fingers!" tutted Slughorn, seeing this entire scenario as a bit of competitive first-year banter.

Suddenly, the classroom doors burst open.

"Sorry we're late!" exclaimed a voice cheerily. Raymond Fogget, the irritating Gryffindor boy with a lion's mane, came stumbling in to the room accompanied by two other Gryffindors. "We got lost!"

"Now, look here, boys!" said Slughorn rather seriously. "I want to have a chat with you about punctuality and manners!"

"Hang on a minute!" cried Elsie, stepping forward in front of Alice. "Alice was all the way over here! She can't have pushed anyone! Are you deluded?"

Bizarrely, and to everyone's astonishment, Druella hissed like a cat in Elsie's face. She was mad. Alice might've convinced herself that she'd imagined it, had the rest of her class not been exchanging confused or frightened looks.

"You're barking..." whispered Elsie.

"No, Elsie, that's what dogs do. Not cats. Cats hiss, just as Druella demonstrated." said Alice loudly.

Raymond Fogget, his friends, some Slytherins and Miles all chuckled quietly. Druella's fury began to boil. She was physically shaking and turning red.

"Erm, class dismissed, everybody! Off to lunch! Mr Fogget, Mr Wheely and Mr Lark, do stay behind. I'm sorry but lateness does receive a detention!"

The Gryffindors groaned as people hurriedly filed out into the corridor. Alice went as quickly as she could, tugging Elsie along with her.

"Fly, Raven, fly!" Druella Lestrange shrieked down the corridor. "Fly far away or you'll be a snake's supper!"

"She's mad. She's positively hysterical..." Elsie hissed as Alice and Elsie escaped into another crowded corridor.

"I know. She's very strange."

oOo

_A/N: Oi oi Saveloy! Review etc_

_It's been a while. How are we all?_

_Link to Tumblr on my profile_

_Nelly Bean x_


	24. War of The Roses

For Alice Potter, the following Sunday was pleasant, but the outcome of the events that day worried her.

She sat in the courtyard of the school in the chilly shade of an oak tree with Skippy Rudge, who'd been delighted at her invitation to study for a Transfiguration test there. The breeze teased the pages of the big leather-bound book that was on her lap. She enjoyed the sound it made. She'd spent most of her free time in her first term flicking through the books in the Ravenclaw common room. They were all full of magical creatures and powerful spells and pretty, if not slightly useless, charms.

Neither of the two first years were paying much attention to their studies. Rudge was happily feeding a bag of crackers to Morgana, Alice's pet raven. The book in Alice's lap lay neglected. Her eyes followed the windswept Gryffindor, Ophelia Peck, around the courtyard as she hurried to join her friends. She was tall and fair and smiled a lot. She was nice and popular and funny.

"What are you looking at?" asked Rudge, not looking away from Morgana as she pecked at the cracker crumbs in his hand.

"Nothing," she mumbled. Watching Ophelia Peck made her feel rather small. "Just thinking."

"If you're worrying about Elsie, then don't."

She tore her gaze away from Ophelia. "Why would I be worried about her?"

Rudge shrugged. "You haven't spoken to her since Friday. Seems odd."

Alice thought back for a moment. Surely she'd spoken to her best friend in the past two days...

"Can you show me the flower-charm-thing again?" he asked eagerly.

Alice sighed. "No, Rudge. It's difficult."

"So?! It's so cool! And if you got really good at it, you could show Flitwick and get extra credit!"

"We're not OWL students, Rudge. We don't get extra credit."

"Oh, go on! Please!"

Alice didn't need much persuading. As tricky as it was to perform, she couldn't help but feel a little proud of her abilities. She'd never witnessed many charms being performed when she was younger. Her mother was akin to muggle ways of life, thus all her housework was done by hand. She'd her father and Sirius perform a few tricks in the garden, and Harry and Ron had spent a few holidays trying to impress the younger ones of the group. As far as magic went, her odd little talent was relatively... nice.

She ripped a long blade of grass from a luscious clump by the base of the tree and stared at it. She tried to memorise everything about it: the deep dark grooves, the shiny edges, the converse scratchy and smooth textures of the blade, like velvet. It shivered and rippled in the breeze before Alice felt the edges of the blade of grass tense and curl inward, forming a thin cylindrical stalk. Out from the tip sprouted a delicate pink shoot.

"Wow..." whispered Rudge in awe.

The shoot spiralled and peeled and grew and unfurled until a perfect pink rose had been formed from a single blade of grass.

Around them, Alice had gathered an audience. She was concentrating on her rose, but she couldn't but feel smug that Ophelia Peck and her friends were watching in amazement. Cedric Diggory and his large bunch of friends made no secret of their intrigue. Neither did Miles Malfoy.

Deriving inspiration from the staccato gusts of wind, Alice blew a sharp breath at the rose head. As though a gale had accumulated, the rose head snapped off and went soaring into the air, spraying the courtyard with thousands of conjured pink rose petals. Some squealed in delight, others gasped. Alice grinned at the sight of fellow first years jumping around, trying to catch the petals as they continued to fall. It was snowing petals now, from about seven feet in the air. As a joke, Fred and George Weasley detached themselves from Cedric's group and began collecting petals themselves. It soon turned into a game: throwing clumps of petals at one another. A rose war.

"Oh dear..." commented a scathing voice. Both Alice and Rudge looked round the tree. Leaning against the trunk was Druella Lestrange. Alice shuddered. Druella smirked slightly. "Mr Filch won't be too happy. I expect he'll make you clear this up."

Alice's eyes widened. The rose petals ceased to fall. People looked around, disappointed.

"That's right. That's how detention works at Hogwarts. I'm surprised you didn't know."

Alice blushed, but still managed to scowl. "I've never received a detention. Of course I wouldn't know."

Druella raised an eyebrow. "The same can't be said for the rest of your family."

"_Druella..."_ warned a voice from nowhere.

The crowd began to disperse now that the petal shower was done. Miles Malfoy stepped forward, giving him a warning glare.

"I'm stating the facts, cousin! No need to scold me!" she smiled. It was not a happy smile. It was disturbing.

"I think what Alice Potter did was cool," he said meekly.

"_Cool? _Miles, the courtyard now looks like a florists' shop floor on Valentines' day."

He shrugged. "Nothing wrong with that."

Druella's stare turned icy. "I never thought you were one for romanticising, cousin. Perhaps young Potter here has helped you turn the tables, as it were."

Miles Malfoy's cheeks went pink. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?"

"You're embarrassing me, Druella.

"Likewise."

"Don't be so mean!" exclaimed Alice, suddenly finding herself standing up. Rudge tugged on her robes like a shy toddler. She ignored him.

As Alice took a step forward towards the bickering cousins, Druella gave her a piercing look and moved towards her as well. Alice flinched, but she could not back down. It was like fighting a bear.

"We've been here two months and I haven't heard you say a nice thing to or about _anybody_. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Why would it?" asked Druella calmly. "There's nobody hear worth a damn."

Alice's gaped at her. "What about your cousins?!" she glanced at Miles, who looked terrified.

"_PATHETIC BOYS_," hissed Druella, sounding very much like a snake. She must've been the truest Slytherin of them all. "Fickle, stupid, weak-minded boys!" she rounded on Alice as she spoke. "Simpering mother and s-s-s-stuttering father, neither of them worth a second glance from anybody of good blood..."

Alice would've lunged. She was preparing to. Only, she didn't need to. A streak of ginger flew across the courtyard and crashed into Druella Lestrange.

Ginny Weasley was standing in seconds, wand aimed downward and the fuming girl on the ground. "My Dad kept the headlines from that night, you know," she told Druella. "I know what the headlines were. _The Lestranges were deranged._ Seems they passed that trait on to you, little girl."

Alice spotted Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione running across the courtyard towards them. She groaned.

"Aim your wand away from me, you disgusting blood traitor..." growled Druella.

"MISS WEASLEY!" exclaimed a shrill voice.

Mrs McGonagall rushed towards them from the outer-archway, brandishing her wand. "What do you think you're _doing_?!"

Ginny blushed red. "Lestrange was..."

"We saw the whole thing, Professor!" lied Harry once he and his friends had joined them. McGonagall stared at him, wide-eyed. "Ginny didn't hex Lestrange or anything!"

McGonagall glared at the girl on the ground. "Get up, girl! Miss Weasley, put your wand away at once!"

Ginny gulped and shoved her wand into her jeans pocket. Alice looked to the rest of them. Ron and Hermione looked concerned but pitiful. Harry merely looked angry. Alice held his eye contact for a long time. Harry gave her a warning glare.

"Professor," said Miles quietly. "Really, nobody was going to hurt anyone. We're all OK!"

"_Liar_," growled Harry. "Your deranged cousin was about to rip Alice's face off and you know it."

"No she-"

"_Enough!_" barked McGonagall. "Now, some body tell me _why_ we seem to be flooded with rose petals!"

"It was Miss Potter, Professor," said Druella smugly. "She performed a charm on a blade of grass and littered the place with them."

McGonagall rolled her eyes. Alice took a deep breath, preparing herself for hearing of a month's detention. Instead, McGonagall held up two wrinkled hands and slowly moved them apart. Just like that, the petals swirled upwards into several whirlwinds of whipping petals, before they dissolved in to sweet, pink smoke.

"Wow..." whispered Rudge from the ground.

"Bloody hell..." agreed Ron.

"All of you return to your common rooms _immediately._ Five points will be deducted from each of your houses. Good day to you."

McGonagall ran off, with Rudge and Hermione tailing her to plead their innocence. Immediately, Harry reached out and grabbed Alice's forearm.

"We're going," he told her. "We're done with these lunatics."

"But..."

"_No, _Alice. You heard McGonagall. Back to your common room. And _you_, " said Harry, glaring at both Druella and Miles. "Keep your pureblood bitterness to yourselves. Stay away from us."

With that, he dragged Alice away. She said nothing to her brother. She merely scowled all the way through the castle until he released her outside her common room. She didn't even say goodbye.

oOo

James Potter had always been a light sleeper. He had that in common with his wife. In fact, it had been in the sleepless hours of nights at Hogwarts that James Potter had spent sitting on the sofa with Lily Evans, chatting and laughing, proving to her that he was worth just one date. That was all it would take.

Now, twenty years on, he woke up to the sound of his wife crying.

He rolled over and lifted his head up. He saw her silhouette sitting on the window-seat, hugging her knees. In the light of the streetlamp outside, he saw the streams of tears glisten.

"I've heard that's dangerous?" he asked casually.

Her crying stopped as she turned to look at him. "What is?"

"Sitting in a position which painfully crushes your womb. Much like the position you're sitting in now."

Lily looked down at her knees and let them drop, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Sorry," she mumbled, wiping her face.

James sat up. "Why are you crying?"

Lily shook her head. "Doesn't matter."

"_Lily_,"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Bad dream."

James frowned. "Again?"

Lily nodded.

James sighed. "Come to bed."

"I don't want to sleep."

"Come to bed or I'll stupefy you."

Lily laughed weakly and slid off the window seat. She padded across the room and clambered back into bed as James held the duvet up to let her in. As soon as he'd tucked the duvet tightly around her and replaced his hand back onto the swell of her stomach, she began to cry again.

"James..." she whimpered. "I keep dreaming about us dying."

James sighed and kissed her head. "That's a silly thing to do."

She sobbed again.

"Lily..." he whispered. "Tell me about them."

She sniffed. "No. You'll get bitchy."

"Will I?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, and I'll try to control my bitchiness."

She took a deep breath. "I dreamt that he killed us... that night."

James inhaled shakily. His heart was sore.

"I saw you and me, dead on the floor. We weren't even in the same room..." more tears came. James hugged her tighter. That was all he could do. "And then I saw Harry as a first year, crying and lonely because we weren't there to tell him how special he was..."

"Lily..."

"And Alice was never born and _this _baby was never born and we were dead and Harry was all alone and Voldemort was still killing people and we weren't there to protect our son!"

"_Lily,_" said James seriously. He leant up on his elbow and looked down over his wife. "I hate to state the obvious, but we're alive."

Lily rolled her eyes.

"Listen," he said softly. Lily swallowed and looked back up at him. "The bastard's dead. _We _killed him. _We_ ended that war and because of that, Harry _knows_ how much we love him. So does Alice."

Lily smiled gratefully up at him. "You're a relatively tolerable man to have for a husband, Potter."

James grinned. "And you're aesthetically pleasing as far as hormonal wenches go, Evans."

"You haven't called me that in a while."

"You haven't been an Evans in a while."

Lily frowned. "Do you think I should write to Petunia soon?"

James shrugged. "I think you should visit her. In actual fact, it might be nice if _she _visited _you_ for once."

"James..."

"I know, I know. _Don't be the bastard husband._ But seriously, Lily. She's never visited her niece and nephew. Last time she saw Alice, she was in nappies. Alice that is, not Petunia."

"Lily smiled half-heartedly. I'll write to her tomorrow. I'll take the kids to see her when the baby's born."

In the dim light of the streetlamp, which filled the room with a dull orange glow, Lily looked beautiful. Particularly as she looked happier and more hopeful than she had in a long time. He couldn't help but grin.

She laughed. "What's so funny, Potter?"

James shrugged. "Nothing. Just your face."

"I despise you."

"Likewise."

She reached up and placed a hand on the back of his neck. He bend down and eagerly kissed her.

She pulled away. "We haven't talked about names yet," she reminded him with a smirk.

"Oh yeah. I did come up with one that I thought was perfect. I think you'll really like it."

Lily looked doubtful. "Go on then."

"Dudley."

The pair stared at each other before erupting into laughter. They had joked about Petunia's choice of baby name for years after Dudley was born. It felt great to laugh about it again.

"Seriously though," sighed Lily after a while. "We need ideas."

James leant back onto the pillows and let Lily rest her head on his chest. "What do you suggest then?"

"I don't know," said Lily. "I like Molly for a girl. You know, after Mrs Weasley."

James wrinkled his nose. "What for?"

Lily shrugged. "She's my friend and she's done a lot for us."

"Yeah, but... _Molly_? Really?"

"Well... OK, it might makes things confusing at times."

"I can't give someone called Molly a bath, Lily."

"Okay..."

"Frank for a boy? After Frank Longbottom?"

"We can't have an Alice and a Frank be brother and sister."

"Marlene?"

"That's already Alice's middle name."

"...no it isn't..."

Lily leant up and stared at him. "What?"

"Her middle name's Lily."

Lily's eyes widened. "No it's not! It's Marlene! We decided against Lily because it didn't sound right!"

"...oh yeah."

"_James!_"

"Sorry!"

"You forgot your own daughter's name!"

"I remembered it was Alice, didn't I?"

"What's _my _middle name, Potter?"

"_Marie_," James scowled, poking her in the ribs. "I remember 'cos I asked Padfoot if I should ask "Lily Marie, will you Marie me?" and he told me that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard."

"Because it is."

"You and him have as much sense of humour as a brick."

"A controversial statement there, Potter. I've been told my humour is of excellent taste. _You _on the other hand..."

"It's been twenty two years since we first met, Lily, do you think you could stop breaking my heart?"

"No. You'll always be an arrogant toe-rag."

"Uppity crone."

"Smug bastard."

"Frigid skirt."

"_Hardly,_" she grabbed his hand and planted it on her belly.

They both felt the baby kick.

"...shit," gasped James.

Lily rolled her eyes. "That's beautiful, James. That's profound."

oOo

_A/N: Rivyoo pleez. _

_Nel X_

_Oh yeah, and go to my profile for the link to my Tumblr. Thank you please. _


	25. Rebirth?

Please do not kill me.

What happens after this "chapter" entirely depends on you lot.

I'm really not happy with this story.

Lots of continuity issues, some plotlines completely missed out and lots of missed opportunities.

Also I was in a "just discovered fanfic" hysterical rush, and so Harry grew 10 years older in like 2 chapters. I exaggerate, but...

SO

I want you to tell me:

Should I keep going with this?

Or should I start again?

I've already decided that I'm going to write another one alongside this, (don't panic, Alice and the Blacks and Druella and that lot will still be there, Hermione's mum will still be a hoe etc etc)

But this re-boot will be MUCH more detailed, much slower and much better written. Seriously, the beginning chapters of this were just appalling.

If you desperately want me to continue this story, I will. But there will also be a much more detailed version running alongside it with the same plotline, and the updates for this one might be slower.

Sorry to dump this on you, but I just re-read it and holy balls, I am so not feeling it. Seriously, if I'd have been more patient and careful, I'd have written a much better story.

Thoughts?

N x


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